Waiting for More
by farewellblindgirl
Summary: After nine years of marriage, Rick Castle finally has to get out. But when the daughter of an old friend comes into his life, he starts to find a reason to work for more. AU, Now Complete, with Epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Waiting for More

**Disclaimer**: I do not own what is owned by others. I do have some fried rice with me, at the moment, but am stumped on how to share that.

**Summary**: After nine years of marriage, Rick Castle finally has to get out. But when the daughter of an old friend comes into his life, he starts to find a reason to work for more. AU

* * *

Richard Castle, noted author of the Derrick Storm series, leaned back in one of the guest chairs of his lawyer's office, let his head lull so that he was staring at the ceiling. He'd made an appointment with her a few days ago, but now that he was there, he had no idea how to proceed.

"Rick, it helps if you talk."

He pulled his head up, looked across the desk at his lawyer. She was a tall woman, in the later half of her fifties, but looked ten years younger. She had black hair with just the slightest wave to it, and a tendency to sit straight backed and proud in a way that would have seemed severe, if not for the constant kind smile on her face. He'd known Johanna Beckett for nearly five years, ever since he'd hired her husband to handle his contracts with his editors, various movie producers, trade paperback publishers, and the like. He liked both of the Becketts, found them to be warm, trustworthy, good people. Exactly what you wanted to have in your corner.

That said, he still never wanted to have to hire Johanna.

"Sorry, Jo. It's all starting to hit me what I'm doing."

"Just start at the beginning, Rick."

Rick huffed, sat up straighter. "I need a divorce."

"I assumed that when you asked for me instead of Jim, but... I don't think I can help you."

"Why? Why not? Did you stop being a divorce lawyer recently?"

"Rick... I do family law, yes, which sadly is mostly divorce, but... yours is a special case. You are rich, decently famous. This is going to be all over the press, and knowing Meredith, she's going to spend a pretty penny hiring the best attorney she can find. The stuff I'm used to is ... smaller. I'd be out of my depth. But I can recommend some people."

"Jo... you and Jim... you're some of the smartest people I've met. And, besides, I trust you. If you need to go to someone for help or give advice, hire them and bill me. I want to hire someone who knows me, knows Alexis, cares about us, and I think you do."

"Rick, I adore you and Alexis both, you know that. That's why I'm recommending this. If it's just me, you'll get fleeced."

"I don't care about getting fleeced. I'll write more books, or something. I don't care. I just need Alexis."

"Rick..."

"Jo," he said, hating how his voice was breaking, but unable to stop himself. "Please."

He watched as her resolve crumbled. She sighed, held out her hand.

"You have a dollar?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out some crumpled bills, handed her one.

"Fine, I'm your lawyer. Now tell me what's going on. Start from the beginning."

"You know most of it."

She pulled out a fresh legal pad. "Yes. And I feel guilty for pushing you to try and work it out before. But, this time is for the record, Mr. Castle."

He nodded, knowing she was using his full name to get him going. He scrubbed his face with his hands, stood up, started pacing in the little room.

"I started seeing Meredith right after college. I'd just published my first book, had sold my second, and was starting to get enough notoriety to get invited to important parties. Meredith was the hot new thing on Broadway at the time, hot as hell and ... fun. Easy. Just what I'd been looking for at the time. I don't know how long it would have lasted if, well, if she hadn't gotten pregnant, but she did and I proposed and ... all of a sudden, I'm married and about to be a dad, thinking I had it all figured out and really had none of it."

He stopped, looked out the 16th floor window for a minute.

"Meredith started cheating on me about six months after Alexis was born. It ... it killed me at first. I tried to hang on, tried to keep her interested, tried to keep her around. Did stupid crap, even got arrested once. But, after awhile, it got too hard, trying to be Alexis's Dad and the crazy guy that Meredith wanted. So I gave up, let her have her affairs."

"And why didn't you divorce her then?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to give up. Wanted Alexis to still have a mother. I ... I fell out of love with her at some point, I guess... so, well, it hurt, but not as much. At least, not so much that I couldn't take it. Had too much to worry about, trying to be Alexis's mom and dad at the same time anyway. And, like you said, I'm famous. It would be plastered across every paper. I know what you were saying. I've always known, when we got divorced, that it would be ugly. But, now..." he said, shaking his head.

"What happened that changed your mind?"

"Meredith moved out about eighteen ... twenty? ... months ago. Alexis and I didn't really even notice that much, it wasn't like she was home all that often by then anyway. She'd come back around, every so often, when she thought some sort of mother-daughter activity would be fun. For the most part, no big deal. Until a week ago."

"What happened a week ago?"

"She took Alexis to Paris."

"I don't follow."

"I came home last week. I'd been at a meeting with my publisher. They... they weren't there. My babysitter told me that Meredith had showed up, taken Alexis out. Meredith had decided she wanted to go to some restaurant in Paris, so she took Alexis with her. It took me hours to get her on the phone, find out what happened. I called the police, was frantic."

He paused, took a deep breath. Johanna went to speak, but he held up his hand. "It gets worse. They got back late a day after that. Alexis was ... it took hours to get the story out of her. Alexis, she... she gets motion sickness, so when we take the car or a plane, I always get her to chew gum, play games, do things to distract her. Meredith though - they were in first class, so Meredith figured that was as good as having a nanny, right? So she took an Ambien and a Mimosa and crashed for 6 hours. Alexis was nauseated the whole time, was crying and throwing up, I guess. Eventually the stewardess woke Meredith up, tried to get her to take care of Alexis, but Meredith just gave the woman a hundred bucks, went back to sleep. When they got to Paris, Meredith woke up, got mad at Alexis for having thrown up on her shirt... she's nine, for God's sake ... it doesn't get better from there... but you get the idea."

Johanna sat back in her chair, "Rick... I'm sorry."

"She's cheated on me for years, Jo... but a girl has to have a mother, right? I mean, it was ... well, it wasn't worth it, wasn't easy to deal with, but if it meant Alexis got to have two parents, then that's important, right? But Meredith doesn't want to be a mother. Never wanted to be a mother. Won't be a mother. And maybe it's better if she's not ... I mean, if we get a divorce, I can get full custody, can legally keep Meredith from screwing Alexis over. Right?"

"Rick..."

"That's what I meant when I said I need Alexis. I don't care what the rest of the terms are, but I need full custody of Alexis. Meredith... it's hard to say this... she's not a bad person. I mean, she's not mean or cruel, she just doesn't care about other people. Doesn't want to be a mother, except for when it's fun. I don't even want to prevent her from seeing Alexis, I just need... I need a legal way to protect Alexis from Meredith's indifference. I need a way to make sure something like last week never happens again."

Johanna waited a minute, let Rick run out of steam. She stood up, went over and sat next to him on the couch. "Rick... I'll... I'll do everything I can to make that happen, but Meredith is going to fight you. You know her better than I do, but I know that. You need to prepare yourself for that."

"Okay," he said, staring off into space. "So what happens now?"

"I'll prepare the paperwork and notify Meredith. Have you talked to Meredith about this, let her know you're going to do this?"

"I did, yeah. I don't think she understood what it meant, but I did talk to her."

"Well, she'll probably take a few days, retain a lawyer who will then contact me. It'll be in everyone's best interest to try to get this done out of court, so we'll try to get most of this done in mediation. You'll need to figure out what you're willing to offer her, what you're willing to live with."

"Full custody, Jo. That's it."

"Well, be that as it may, you will still need to eat. So will Alexis. So we can't just offer her everything."

"Talk to Jim. I don't really... I'll be honest, I don't know half of my finances as well as I should. You and Jim could probably rob me blind and I'd never know. Let him figure out what I can afford, offer her as much as we can to make this end quickly."

"Do you have a pre-nuptial agreement?"

He laughed. "I was twenty-three, and we were getting married because she got pregnant. I wasn't really thinking straight in the first place, certainly not enough to worry about money. We were going to last forever..." He trailed off, laughed again, though there was no humor in it. "Sorry, no pre-nup."

"Rick, I know it doesn't feel like this now, but it will all work out. It will be fine, in the end."

"I hope so, Jo. I always wanted what you and Jim have. Figured one marriage would be it for me. Even after all these years... maybe some stupid part of me figured this would all fix itself..." He shook his head. "I'll... when this is all over, I'll believe you. I promise."

Johanna gave him a comforting pat on the thigh. "Good. We're going to have a lot more to cover, but that's enough for today. I'll draw up the papers tomorrow. We can meet this time next Wednesday, unless I hear from Meredith's lawyer before then."

"Can I just sit here for a second? This is draining," he said with a lopsided smile.

She chuckled, "Sure, Rick. I won't even charge you."

"Jo, tell me something good. Something positive. Has that daughter of yours made Commissioner yet?"

"Very subtle change of subject there, Rick, and no. Though she did just make detective."

He smiled, seeing the way she lit up, talking about her daughter. He's a proud parent himself, could certainly approve.

"You could finally meet her," Johanna continued. "She's coming by soon."

"As much as I'd like to fill my life up with as many Becketts as possible, I'm thinking that I'm not really in the best frame of mind to be meeting people right now. I think I'll go."

He stood up, gave Johanna's shoulder a slight squeeze, like she was the one needing comforting, and left her office.

Exhausted as he was, Rick decided he needed some coffee to get through the rest of the day, so he ducked into the little coffeeshop off the lobby of Johanna's building. He'd been in the place about a dozen times over the years, grabbing something before his early meetings with Jim. He liked the atmosphere and the good coffee.

Standing in line, he needed a distraction, so he played his normal game of creating stories for the other patrons. The old man with frazzled white hair in front of him was obviously a tenured NYU professor, who'd once had a scandalous affair with a French Graduate Student in his youth. The two women at one of the small tables were sisters, who had once dated the same man, until he'd fallen in love with the third sister.

The woman at the counter, ordering a soy latte with vanilla was ... actually, he had no idea what she was. She was a mystery, that's what she was. Well dressed, but the four-inch heels and leather jacket meant she wasn't a lawyer or someone from Wall Street. They were too far from the art galleries or the garment district, and for some reason he doubted she worked in either of those fields anyway.

He watched her as she took her drink over to the prep station, adding cream and sugar. She was elegant, graceful in her movements, and he figured she must have had training in dance or something at some point her in life. She was too tall for ballet, probably around 5' 9" without the heels. Maybe a model, but again, they were too far from the garment or theater districts for that to be likely. He was slowly getting hypnotized by the way her brown hair fluttered as she moved, how her fingers daintily but precisely twirled her stirring spoon, how her brow furrowed in intense concentration.

Knowing he was doing the creepy staring thing that sometimes plagued him, he forcefully turned himself so that she was out of his line of vision. He wanted to keep watching her. He wanted to talk to her, find out who and what she was, but he shook himself free of that notion, decided to concentrate on ordering his coffee.

He ordered, paid the kind old woman that worked the register, decided to hurry out of the store and get home. He duck his head, took one step, and collided with the woman he'd been staring at earlier. So much for keeping her out of his eye-line.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said.

He looked down at the warm mess on his chest and then over at her, oddly happy that he'd taken the brunt of the damage. "No, I'm pretty sure this one was my fault. I'm not very good at looking where I'm going."

"I think I've ruined your coat... I could ... well, actually, I'm pretty sure I can't afford to replace it."

"Replace it? It's nothing a little red wine won't get out," he said with a chuckle. Even if the sport coat was ruined, it wasn't a favorite, and he had two dozen more like it.

"Red wine?"

"Sure. You put red wine on it, then you put club soda on it to get out the red wine. Everyone knows that."

She chuckled. "I don't think anyone knows that because it won't work. At least let me pay to get it dry-cleaned."

"Again, my fault, not yours," he said, unable to keep the smile off his face or out of his voice. She really was lovely, and there was an enjoyable edge to the way she spoke.

"No, it really wasn't. Give me the coat, I'll dry clean it, get it back to you."

"Trying to get me out of my clothes and in public no less. Kinky." Was he flirting with this woman, he wondered? He'd always enjoyed flirting, received plenty of attention over the years once women knew who he was. But this was different. She obviously didn't recognize him. And he was surprised that he could be in a mood to flirt, considering what he had started today.

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was still smiling. "In your dreams. I'm just trying to make amends."

"How 'bout I just go to the bathroom, try to blot most of this out? We're both making too big a deal out of this."

"Fine. You try that, I'll be here. But if you can't get it out, we're working out some way for me to make it up to you," she said. He loved the sly smile she gave him.

"Fine," he said, "Don't miss me too much."

As he walked to the bathroom, he felt oddly light for a second or two, but then reality came crashing down on him. He was desperately out of dating practice, having gone on a few dates right after he and Meredith had split, but nothing else in more than a year. Despite the rust, he could still sense that if he asked her out, she'd say yes. He could tell he wanted to ask her out, wanted her to say yes. But, while flirting was one thing, a date was another. Where could it possibly go? He was about to be divorced, about to have his life splashed on the pages of the tabloids. Now was not the time to think of beautiful brunettes with beauty marks on their cheeks. He had to get out of there. He turned, not for the bathroom, but for the front door. He was almost out when he stopped, realized he was going to be horribly rude to this charming woman. He could at least do something nice before he ran away. He turned back to the clerk, ordered the soy latte he'd remembered her getting.

"Give it to the brunette with the leather jacket," Castle said to the man making the coffee.

"You mean, Kate? Sure, it's her regular order. I just made her one."

"I know, I accidentally spilled it." He took a few extra bucks, dropped them in the tip jar. He looked over, made sure the woman was looking away from them, and hurried out the front door.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Waiting for More

Disclaimer: I do not own what is owned by others. I do have some fried rice with me, at the moment, but am stumped on how to share that.

Summary: After nine years of marriage, Rick Castle finally has to get out. But when the daughter of an old friend comes into his life, he starts to find a reason to work for more. AU

* * *

Kate:

Kate Beckett, newly minted Detective of the NYPD 12th District Vice Squad, stood at the prep station in the little coffeeshop she loved so much. It was more expensive than Starbucks, nowhere near her apartment or the precinct office, and often had a waiting line. But she still came back, every Wednesday afternoon, to pick up coffee before meeting her mother. The owners were kind, warm people who made her think of grandparents she'd never met. The coffee was dark, rich and worth the extra two bucks she paid per cup.

But it was the prep station, with real cream served in silver pitchers, sugar cubes drawn from porcelain dishes, that always drew her back. Coffee was meant to be stirred with a dainty tea spoon. She loved watching the cream spread over the black surface of the liquid, the sugar cubes dissolve as she stirred. The whole act was an island of calm in her chaotic life, meditation in physical action.

She finished her preparations, put the travel lid back on her and her mother's coffees. She turned towards the side exit that lead to the lobby of her mother's building, and promptly bumped into another of the shop's patrons, feeling one of her coffees leave her hand with the abrupt stop.

She gasped, leaned back. He was tall, an inch or so taller than her even though she was in her four-inch heels. He was broad shouldered, strong jawed. There was something in his blue eyes and the cute way his hair flopped away from his part that made him seem boyish, even though he was obviously a few years older than her twenty-five.

Momentum had carried most of her coffee onto his chest. She was clean save a few drops that had back-splashed onto the lapel of her leather jacket. She looked at the caramel stain that had spread across the man's white shirt and dark gray sport coat. She wasn't much for fashion, but she could tell by the way the clothes draped across he broad shoulders that both the shirt and coat were probably bespoke. She ran the numbers in her head, wondered if she'd just inadvertently destroyed three thousand dollars worth of clothing.

Luckily, as they talked, she found that he was kind and funny in addition to well-dressed. When he smiled, she felt her heart do a little flip-flop, and she found herself flirting with him. She even found a way to get in contact with him again, and thought she might even get a date out of her little accident. But then he disappeared to the bathroom. She stood around, waiting for him to return.

"Kate?" Paul, the owner, asked.

She turned towards Paul, still looking for the well-dressed stranger out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, Paul."

Paul nodded, placed a cup of coffee on the counter for her. "To replace the one that got spilled."

"Thank you, that's very nice of you."

"Wasn't me. Was that guy you spilled on. Ordered it, then disappeared out the front door like he was on fire."

"Really?" she asked, taking the coffee, trying not to be disappointed. "Have you seen him in here before?"

"Nope, thought you knew him. He knew your regular order."

"Odd."

Paul shrugged, returned to making coffee. She shook her head, tried to clear her thoughts before going back, fixing up the second coffee the way she liked, and trying not to think of the stranger's blue eyes.

Kate and her mother had a standing coffee date at five-thirty every Wednesday afternoon, though Kate would often miss them for a few weeks at a time when her caseload piled up. They'd managed to keep the ritual going for years, ever since Johanna and her husband had opened their own firm when Kate was nineteen. Kate had walked the lobby and taken the elevator to the sixteenth floor more times in the last six years than she could count.

Kate got off the elevator, nodded to Nicole, the receptionist and paralegal. "Hey Nic, is Mom clear?"

"She's free, Kate, head on in."

Kate walked down the hall, ducked her head into her Dad's office, saw that, as usual, he was with a client, and walked next door to her Mother's office. She loved the little room that had been her mother's second home for so many years. It had been rough, those first few months, as Johanna had tried to switch from criminal defense to family law and her father had scrambled for contract clients. Her parents had pretty much lived in the office. Kate had spent many a summer night, home from college, helping out in any way she could and falling asleep on Johanna's couch.

"Katie. I was wondering if I'd see you today," Johanna said, taking the coffee that Kate held out for her.

"You know I'd call, Mom."

"Well, if you could. It's a mother's prerogative to worry."

Kate sighed. "Not today, Mom," she said. Her mother was tolerant, but never entirely happy that Kate had gone into law enforcement. She was supportive, but always a bit hesitant. Kate knew it had to do with an appeals case, years ago, that had caused Johanna to give up being a defense attorney, but Kate's attempts to ask for the details over the years had been firmly rebuffed. Like any loving family, they'd reached a casual detente. Kate wouldn't push too much, and neither would Johanna, thought neither was above the occasional dig or prod.

"Okay, fine," Johanna said. "No shop talk then. But... the job does bring you in contact with a lot of people. Any cute ones?"

Kate leaned back on her Mom's couch. "Come on, Mom. Druggies, pimps, johns and cops do not a dating pool make."

"What's so bad about dating another cop?"

"I tried that, Mom, with Matt? And with Mike before that? I think twice is enough to prove that's not a great idea."

"And the johns are out? They're just looking for love, after all."

Kate laughed. "That would be a story for the grandkids. How did we meet? Oh, I busted him after he thought I was a prostitute." Kate sobered up. "Actually, it may not be the pool. I may just be cursed."

Johanna sat forward in her chair, leaned against her desk. "Why do you say that, honey?"

"I ... I bumped into this guy today. I mean, I literally bumped into him. And, he was ... yeah," Kate said the last part half breathlessly, half in frustration.

"You liked him," Johanna said, not asking.

"Yeah. Tall, broad shoulders, these blue eyes that... crinkled? Charming, funny, at least in the few minutes we talked. I flirted. It felt like he flirted back, but then..."

"Then?"

Kate looked down, worried the travel cup of coffee between her hands. "I'd spilled coffee on him, so I offered to get his clothes dry cleaned. Would have been a good way to see him again, right? But he bolted while I wasn't looking. Just ducked out of the shop, no goodbye, nothing. Not sure how to take that."

Johanna sat and watched her daughter as Kate looked around the room, not making eye contact. "Honey... I don't think it meant anything. Maybe he got called away. Maybe he was embarrassed to be covered in coffee. Maybe he was married and didn't want to push it. Don't go assuming facts not in evidence."

"You're right. I'm making too much of it all. Just... I put everything on hold after Matt, figuring I could put extra effort into making detective, and now that I'm here... there's more to life, right? Than busting pimps and then going home to a little apartment and some new book?"

"Of course there is, honey. But give yourself time. Twenty-five is nothing."

"I guess. It's just been on my mind. Can we talk about something else, before I over-think this to death?"  
"Well, if we're not going to talk about work, and we're not going to talk about your love life then what ... oh, I know. Speaking of books, he's got a new book out."

"Mooooom..." Kate whined. They've had this conversation before too. "I know you like his writing, but thriller mystery stuff isn't quite my thing."

"Dostoevsky wrote a mystery."

"Yes, but he's Dostoevsky. I'm sorry, I like big heavy stuff. If it's not Russian..."

"...it's crap. Yes, I know. You've said," Johanna said, shrugging. "But you're missing out."

"Then I guess I'm missing out. Even if he is one of Dad's clients."

"Speaking of. You're helping with this Christmas party this year, right?"

"I'll try. I mean, I'll help. I don't know if I'll be there. Low man on the totem pole, I'll be on call most holidays for awhile."

"It's on the sixteenth. I'll call around, make sure all the pimps in Manhattan take that day off."

"Very funny," Kate said, but she smiled anyway. "I'll be around to help with the decorations and the cooking though, as much as I can."

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**A/N: **Thank you everyone for the kind response. I love seeing all the follows and the reviews. To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle, unless Castle happens to be three quarters, a ball of lint, and a chewed up dog leash...

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Rick:

Two weeks later, Castle was again in Johanna's office. As much as he liked Johanna, he still really didn't want to be in her office. Last week, Johanna had told him that Meredith had hired Turner Barrows, one of the more vicious divorce lawyers in New York, who had made his name off two of the 'Real Housewives' as well as a few Knicks. For the most part, Castle wouldn't have given a damn, except that the man had obviously counseled Meredith to put on more of a motherly appearance. As a result, he and Alexis had seen Meredith more in the last ten days than in the previous twelve months put together.

It was grating on his nerves.

Meredith was an actress, after all, and so she'd taken to this last two weeks of mothering like it was just another role to play. Sadly, he'd learned to see through her acting tricks early on. He wondered if Alexis had too, and if it was better or worse if she hadn't.

"How are you and 'Lex holding up, Rick?" Johanna asked.

Rick turned from where he'd been staring out the window. "Fine, I guess. Alexis is old enough to understand what's going on, sort of."

"Alexis always was a bright girl."

"Sadly, most of her classmates have some experience with divorce. Alexis already sort of thought Meredith and I were divorced. Thought we'd been divorced her whole life. I hadn't realized before now that Alexis thought of her mother as some sort of every other weekend custodian."

"I'm sorry, Rick. I would never wish this on you or Alexis, but I do think it will be better for your both, once it's all done."

"I know. That's why I wanted you. So thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I have some bad news and some odd news. The bad news, although expected, is that Meredith rejected out initial offer. She hasn't counter-offered yet. The odd news is that Barrows agreed to our mediator."

"Why is that odd?"

"Barrows is the kind of guy that will argue the color of the sky, just to get you to concede something. If he's agreeing, he must see some advantage in the arrangement."

"Is there one, for them?"

"Honestly? I don't know - it's just mediation, not binding. But, like I said, I'm not used to these high stakes divorces."

"You'll be fine. Just remember you're protecting Alexis, do whatever seems right to save her."

"Speaking of... I haven't seen our old soul in awhile."

"You probably will soon. I have been reluctant to leave her with Emily, since Emily can't run interference with Meredith, and Meredith seems to have a sixth sense about when I'm out of the loft. So I've been bringing Alexis along to stuff I'd normally let her stay home for."

"Well, bring her by. We can find a way to keep her busy when you and I talk business. Anyway, like you instructed, our offer to Meredith was generous, so I'm expecting the counter-offer to be ... crippling."

"As long as I get custody, I don't care."

"I'd like to think we can get you out of this with Alexis, your home, your books and at least some cash for Mac and Cheese."

"That's fine. Alexis and I both like Mac and Cheese. Especially the stuff with that toxic yellow colored cheese powder."

"Please don't tell me that's what you serve her."

"Don't worry, I get some vegetables in her too. Mostly at her insistence, in fact."

Johanna grabbed a file off of her desk, handed it to Rick.

"What's this?"

"Jim put it together. Actually, hold on," Johanna said. She got up, left the office. When she came back, her husband was following her.

"Want to tell Rick about the breakdown?"

"Sure," Jim said, shaking Rick's hand, "Good to see you, wish it was under better circumstances."

"Hey, after this is over, I'm going to need to write some new books. Maybe you can swing me a deal for a second series or something."

Jim nodded over to his wife, "Well, you'd have one reader guaranteed."

"Be sure to tell the publishers that."

Jim laughed. He pointed at the folder Rick had opened. "That's a breakdown of your financial position right now, in that first column there. That's just the summary, you can look through the details if you want. The second column is what things will look like if Meredith accepts your first offer."

"She rejected it," Johanna said.

"Right, sorry. So that's where you might have been. The third column is where we're guessing things will eventually end up, and the fourth is sort of the worst case scenario."

"These seem fine. I mean, even this fourth column, it wouldn't be too bad."

"No, you'd still be making more money than most people. But, I do have to warn you. If it got that bad, she'd probably end up with ownership of your books, at least with rights over Derrick Storm. Anything you wrote in the future for Derrick, she'd be able to control."

"Better him than Alexis."

"I like your pragmatism. But remember... selling an extension to a series is much easier than selling new work, even for an author as established as yourself. And you'd have to reconcile yourself to seeing Storm on the side of a Burger King cup, or hocking mattresses or something."

Rick groaned. Storm was his. All of his characters were. They were family. But if it meant keeping Alexis...

"Thanks, Jim. Jo. You guys... I know you're looking out for me. I'll think about all of this."

"Good. I'll call you when we hear from Meredith," Johanna said.

Rick stood in the lobby of the Beckett's office building, staring at the coffeeshop entrance. He'd decided not to go in last week when he'd had his appointment with Johanna, worried that he might run into the brunette that the clerk had said was a regular. But now, though he was still scared, he also sort of hoped he would run into her, though maybe not literally this time. Even if he had no idea what to say.

This is stupid, he thought to himself. There was no way she'd be in at the exact same time he was. He laughed at himself and went into the shop.

The older gentleman was working the register today, and the store was empty save one man who already had his drink, so Castle decided to strike up a conversation after he ordered.

"Every time I come in here, it's just the two of you working."

"That's cause were the only employees, son. My wife and I have owned this place twenty years, from back before the days of the Caribous and the Starbucks and the rest."

"Must be tough."

"Not as bad as you think. Most of our business is from the surrounding offices, so we usually close around seven, and around two on Saturday. We're our own bosses, get to work together. Our son and daughter covered quite a few shifts growing up. Not a bad life. Plus, most of our customers are regulars. Get to meet some good people, make sure they have the pick-me-up that gets them through the day. And speaking of, hi, Kate."

Castle turned around, saw that the brunette he hadn't been able to stop thinking about had come into the store. He smiled without thought and she gave him a half smile back.

"Hi Paul, can I have the caramel mocha today, and the normal Double Americano?" The woman, Kate, asked.

"Coming right up."

"Hi," Rick said. "I'm sorry I ran out on you last time. Something... well, it's a long story." He hoped she wouldn't ask, since he still had no excuse save the truth.

"It's okay. Saved me a dry-cleaning bill, I guess. And thank you for the coffee."

"My pleasure. I did, after all, take your first one with me when I left."

"Is it still with you?"

"What? Oh, no. The stains came out. Crisis averted. Don't worry, coffee is nowhere near the top of the list of oddball things I've asked my dry cleaner to get out of a coat."

"You must lead quite the life," she said, taking her coffee from the counter.

"You have no idea. I'm Rick, by the way," he said. He wanted to say his last name, but then remembered that right now, being known would probably work against him.

"Kate," she said, shaking his hand.

"So you're here every Wednesday?"

"I have a standing date."

"Oh," he said, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice, "I should let you go then."

"It's with my mother. It can keep for a minute. By the way, how did you know my drink order?"

"Oh, I saw you in line when I came in, heard what you'd ordered."

"And you remembered. That's ... sort of creepy actually."

He laughed, since her eyes seemed to say she was joking. "I don't set out to do it, it just happens. I notice things, whether I mean to or not."

"You sound like a superhero. After a mysterious gamma ray owl bite accident, Rick can... notice things, really well."

"Oooh... a comic book fan. Hot."

"Close your eyes," she said.

"Games, even hotter." He was flirting again, despite himself. What was it about this woman?

She rolled her eyes, so he did what she asked.

"Okay, I want to see this talent. Tell me what you've noticed about this place."

"Well, behind me are shelves..."

"No," she interrupted. "Things unique to today."

"Hmm..." he said, and let himself think, replay the scene in his head. "You called the man working the register Paul. He's wearing a blue apron over a white polo shirt with a non-Ralph Lauren horse on the breast pocket. He has a small shaving nick on his neck to the left of his Adam's Apple. You are wearing shorter heels than last time, and jeans instead of slacks. The leather coat is the same, but the blue and gray scarf is new. It's got a fray at the end of it. Paul's wife has been humming 'shave and a haircut' while she sweeps. You and Paul are right handed, but his wife is left handed. You bite the nail of your left index finger, probably when you are nervous or thinking, I don't know. There is one other customer, a guy in his early twenties in a stupid retro motorcycle jacket, listening to an iPod at the second table from the serving station. Whatever he's listening to has a fast beat based on the way he's tapping his Adidas against the chair. He's meeting a girl here."

"Impressive. How do you know he's meeting a girl?"

He opened his eyes, enjoyed the impressed smile on her face. "He keeps checking his phone, has been since I came in. He's nursing that drink, trying to delay things until someone shows up. He's too nervous for it to be another guy."

"That's a good skill to have."

"Sometimes. Sometimes it makes pretty women think you are creepy."

"Can you practice that skill in other settings?"

His eyes grew wide, and she immediately blushed. "No, no, not like that. Don't get ahead of yourself. I just meant... say, at dinner."

"I could, maybe, if my dinner companion isn't too distracting to take all my attention. My rare talents and abilities work best Saturday night."

"Rare talents?"

"Mediocre but interesting talents."

"Better. But Saturday night would be perfect."

He smiled, and she did too. He has a date with this incredible woman.

Oh, he has a date. Well, that's ... not good. But the way she's smiling at him, he couldn't regret it, even if it's probably not the smartest move he's ever made. So he sucked it up, got her phone number and an agreement to meet her here, at this building, on Saturday night.

Despite the rollercoaster of a day and his nerves for Saturday, on his walk home, he found himself whistling.

* * *

Kate:

"I ran into him again," Kate by way of hello. She handed her mother her coffee, and then sat down in her mother's guest chair.

"Who?" Johanna asked, taking a sip of her Americano.

"The coffee guy."

"From a few weeks ago?"

"Yep. He was there again. I um ..." Kate said, fiddling with her drink and not looking at her mother. "...I asked him out."

"I assume by the way you're smiling, he said yes."

Kate nodded, her smile growing wider. "Saturday."

"So you're not cursed after all."

Kate sobered up. "Is this really the best idea? I don't know anything about this guy. I have this tendency to ... dive right in. It hasn't really worked so well..."

"Honey, first off, it's a date, not a wedding. Secondly..." Johanna shrugged, "take it easy. Get to know him. Don't sleep with him on the first date."

"Mom! I've never..."

"I don't want to know either way. I'm kidding, but you know what I'm saying. If you're worried about diving in, then don't. Stay on the diving board for a bit, look around. This analogy isn't great."

"No, I get it. I'll... you're right, I'll take it easy. Assuming I don't have to cancel on him."

"Work?"

"Some new escort service, well-funded. We're getting close, everyone can feel it, but that's just making the Captain push that much harder. I only got out of there today because we were tracking the financials until 3am yesterday."

"We can cut today short. You're going to be over quite a bit next week, right? We've got a lot of cooking and baking to do, and Dad likes your help."

"I'll try, Mom. And Dad just likes my help because he gets bored, only ever ends up decorating half the tree."

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you, everybody, for the kind reception. Reviews and favorites are like crack... I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to respond to everyone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Marlowe rejected my offer of a handful of magic beans in exchange for _Castle._ So I guess it still ain't mine...

* * *

Kate:

She took a satisfied bite of her spring roll as he laughed so hard his head hit the table.

"Okay, it was last spring roll funny, but it wasn't that funny."

"Oh no," he said, "it wasn't the least bit funny. But I've never seen someone put so much effort to such a bad pun."

"At least you got it," she said. Matt had thought comic books were idiotic, and Mike hadn't found much of anything funny. So far, from what she could tell, Rick seemed to find most things funny, or at least enjoyable. Except for a brief moment of nervousness when she'd first walked into the coffeeshop at the start of their date, she'd found the whole evening relaxed, happy, laughing and revelling in the little flutters and sparks that kept showing up.

He leaned back in his chair, wiped his eyes. "Yeah, but I'm never going to be able to read Wings of the Dove the same way again. Or Green Lantern, for that matter."

They were in a little modern Thai place in Midtown for dinner. She'd ended up spending half of Saturday afternoon picking out her outfit, but the way he kept checking her out through their meal had made it worth it.

"So you're a Henry James fan then," he said.

"He's decent enough, for an American."

"For an American? The American Literary tradition is the best in the world! Come on... Faulkner, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Welty, Pynchon, Wallace..."

"Decent enough, I suppose," she said. She enjoyed the way he was getting riled up.

"Decent enough? Decent enough? So what would you recommend? British? Irish?"

"Repeat after me, if it's not Russian, it's crap."

"Russian? Perfect if you want a ninety page novella told in 1200 pages. You need to read Hammett, learn the power of brevity."

"Hammett?" she asked, interrupting. "You're seriously going to bring a mystery writer as an argument?"

"Of course. Mysteries are the perfect form. I should know."

"Rick... come on. Mysteries are like reality TV. They're just the same thing, over and over. I read one Deever or Castle novel and I've read them all."

She saw a flash of ... something... across his face, but he schooled himself quickly. She wondered what line she'd crossed.

"Okay, so maybe I'm pushing it a bit," she said. "I guess, as long as there is a Bulgakov or a Solzhenitsyn left to read... but I loved Sherlock Holmes as a kid, so maybe I'm missing out."

He gave he a thin smile, and she wondered how she could get back the ease they'd shared throughout dinner. She looked around, flailed for a subject to discuss.

"So, if you only read Russian literary masterpieces," he said, "I'm guessing it's all art-house movies in Swedish."

"Or Finnish, of course," she said. He gave her a look, and she laughed. "No, I'm kidding. Novels are novels, but movies are supposed to be easy and fun. TV too."

"Give me an example..."

"Hmmm... Temptation Lane?"

"Okay, there's hope for you yet," he said. She giggled.

"I think we're getting the evil eye," he said as she looked around.

"Evil eye?"

"Our waiter wants us to leave."

"Why? We just got here," she said, looking at her watch, "three and a half hours ago."

Rick reached into his wallet, removed some cash. He made a very obvious gesture of leaving several meals worth of bills on the table. "That should calm down the evil eye."

"Rick, I asked. This was my treat."

"Money's already on the table."

She shook her head. "Then let's go. I'll buy the drinks."

He smiled, the easy smile he'd had earlier, and she let the tension go out of her shoulders. He helped her put on her coat, and she nearly shivered as his thumbs brushed the sides of her neck while holding her collar. His hand came to rest at the small of her back as he led her out of the restaurant, and she smiled to herself, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the chemistry they seemed to have. The flushed smile on his face let her know he felt it too.

Once out on the street, she whistled for a cab. He held the door for her, and then slid in next to her, sitting closer than necessary, so that their knees kept brushing against each other as the cab pulled away from the curb. She leaned forward, brushing against him even more as she talked to the cabbie through the partition. She didn't know the address of the bar she wanted to go to, so she gave the guy the nearest intersection.

She leaned back against the fake leather of the cab, enjoying the silence. She felt his warmth against her side, along her arm and her thigh. Somehow they'd gone through the night talking about comic books and New York in November, motorcycle riding and growing up at boarding school and backstage of his mother's plays. She wanted to ask him what he did for a living, but not quite ready to explain that she was a vice cop in return. Every guy she'd ever met reacted strangely to her being a cop, sometimes even if they were a cop themselves. She'd gotten used to avoiding the subject. For now, she could stall, and just enjoy a drink with him. She wondered if he could handle a good scotch.

The place wasn't far, and a few minutes later, they were at the corner. She handed the cabbie a few dollars, happy that Rick didn't protest. She felt another little thrill when he took her hand and helped her out of the cab. He released her hand, and she had to stifle the urge to reach out and grab it again. Instead she cocked her head to the side.

"Follow me, it's just up the street."

They walked down the street, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. Rick was telling her something, but she just listened to the baritone rhythms of his voice, instead of his words.

"So this is your neighborhood? I used to live right over there," he said. He pointed back towards the corner where they'd started. "Lived there until I got m... until I was twenty-three. In fact, I think that we're really close to... Kate? Is this the bar you wanted to go to?" He'd stopped abruptly in the middle of the block, staring at the sign over the bar.

"Yeah. Have you been here? It's great, like some little cave where Yeats and Joyce would write, if they were still alive."

"I know," he said. She watched as a whole series of inscrutable emotions played out across his face. "I love this place... but... can I get a raincheck? I didn't realize how late it's gotten."

She resisted the urge to check her watch, knowing that it couldn't be much later than ten pm. Other than the weird moment about books, she'd thought the night had gone well, but maybe she had been wrong. She pushed down on her rising disappointment, worked to put on a brave face. She'd just have the scotch alone, at home.

"It's fine," she said. It was not fine, but she couldn't say that. Instead, she gave him a wan smile that didn't reach her eyes, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were darting around, and she could tell he was already a million miles away. He leaned in, brushed his lips against her cheek the way he might a business acquaintance, and she got angry at how her skin flushed anyway. She pulled back, fighting the scowl that wanted to appear on her face, watched as he jumped in a cab before she was even really aware that he'd summoned one.

As the cab disappeared into traffic, she could only stand there and wonder, what the hell had happened?

* * *

Rick:

Castle sat back on the now way too familiar leather couch in his lawyer's office.

"Okay, what's the bad news?" he said.

"We got Meredith's counter-offer. It's ... well, the financials are manageable, You'd take a hit up front, but ... Rick... she's pushing for custody... full-custody."

"Full? What?" Castle exclaimed, jumping up to pace. "Meredith couldn't keep a goldfish alive, much less our daughter. She's ... I don't even know why she'd want full-custody."

"Rick, you have to understand. It would look extremely bad for her to renounce custody. She's using Alexis for leverage."

"Hell, what kind of person does that?"

"One who knows what you want, knows how to manipulate you to get what she wants."

"Dammit, Jo. This is..."

"Rick, calm down. We expected this. It's not catastrophic. But it is a smart move on her part. You're going to need to start thinking about what she's trying to get out of this. I think it's more that just money. You have to figure out what she wants, and find a way to give it to her."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I knew what she wanted before now, I would have given it to her years ago."

Johanna was quiet for a moment. He sat back down, put his forearms on his knees.

"Remember that book party a few years ago?" Johanna asked. "The one that you had at the Tribeca Grand, when you were doing that fundraiser for that reading program?"

"Sure. It was fun... but I don't see what that has to do with this."

"I remember it because it was the first time I met Alexis. It must have been what, two years ago?"

"Little more than three."

"It was so much fun to have a little girl around again. I'd missed it. Alexis and I were off in the corner, eating some of the cake and talking about all the dressed up people. She liked picking out all the differences in people's tuxedos and dresses. But, it was getting late, and I thought she'd probably needed some time with Meredith, needed to get home. So I told her we should go find her Mom. I'll never forget what she said. She said, 'Mommy won't want me around right now with this many people here. She's busy being a princess.'"

Rick collapsed back, like someone had removed his spine. "Dammit, Jo. You never told me. I ..."

"No" Johanna interrupted. "She didn't say it like she was sad, just like it was a fact. But your daughter saw something at five that you aren't seeing now."

"Meredith wants to be the center of attention. I know that."

"Right. But you aren't thinking about what it means."

"Okay, fine. I'll think about it."

Rick closed his eyes. He hadn't loved Meredith in a long time, but he'd never hated here either. It felt pointless, like hating the wind for blowing or water for being wet. She just was the way she was, and no matter what else, he had gotten Alexis out of the deal. But, God, maybe he should have done this years ago, as hard as it was. Maybe he should have done it when she'd first started cheating, when he'd resorted to crazy parties and stealing police horses to keep impressing her. Maybe he should have spent the time getting out of the marriage, instead of working to stay in it. Then he could have saved Alexis a lot of pain. Himself too, maybe.

Ah, well, maybes never did anyone any good, and he didn't want to dwell, lest he descend into a funk. He wouldn't hate Meredith, but he might come close.

He needed to think of something happier.

"I had a date this weekend," he said, staring at the ceiling. He could hear Johanna put her pen down, could feel her smiling at him.

"You are much better at subject changes in your books than in real life. You could work on that, you know."

"Did I ever tell you it sometimes feels like I have a second mother?" he asked, but he smiled at her.

"My husband does have a pretty tight hold on your finances. I'm sure he could ground you."

"Ha ha," he said, "I guess I walked into that one. I just wanted to think about something other than the divorce. My date was alight..." he trailed off, the smile on his face breaking out despite himself. He had no way to explain it.

"Lit? As in high?"

"No, I mean, like she's lit from the inside. She glows."

"So you liked her. Date went well?"

"I can't even... this woman ... she's incredible. I'm sure I could have talked to her for weeks and still been hungry for more. She's smart, beautiful, I mean seriously beautiful, funny - for rights to the last spring roll she even told a joke linking Henry James and Hal Jordan. I mean, that's the dream."

"I'm afraid I don't know who Hal Jordan is."

"Green Lantern. Comic book... it doesn't matter. This woman is just off the charts great..."

"So it went well then."

"No, it was terrific...until I think I screwed it up at the end."

"What happened?"

"Got gun-shy. She invited me to a bar she likes for a drink, and it turned out to be the Old Haunt."

"Why is that name familiar?"

"It's where I wrote my first book. For a second, I thought, how cool is that, right? But then I realized that the whole damned story would come up, including the divorce, and I just had to get out of there." Rick sighed, scrubbed his face with his hands. "Not that it matters."

"Why doesn't it matter?"

"I don't know, what's the point, Jo?"

"What do you mean?"

"This woman is way out of my league to begin with. What happens when she finds out I'm a single dad in the middle of a divorce from a crazy woman?"

"You can't think like that. You're rich, good looking, smart, and a sweetheart." Johanna stopped, took a deep breath. "Rick ... I have a friend. We've known each other for years. He's a therapist, helps people deal with the issues that come up around divorce. I think you should talk to him."

"You think I need therapy?"

"I think it would help. As long as I've known you, I've never been able to say self-doubt was a major part of who you are."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe ... give me his info... I'll think about that one too."

"Good. But I interrupted you. Wasn't she impressed when you told her you were Richard Castle? Or did she already know?"

"I didn't tell her," he said. When he saw Johanna's incredulous look, he continued, "I was going to. We were talking about novels. I was going to mention that I write, but... it's funny, she started tearing into mysteries. Said they were the reality television of books. Said she liked big Russian books, that if it's not Russian, it's crap."

Johanna gasped.

"What?" he asked. "I sorta thought it was funny, not that I was going to tell her I wrote the equivalent of reality television after that. Luckily she never asked, it never came up."

Johanna sat back in her chair. Rick thought she looked like she'd been hit by a truck.

"You really like this girl, don't you? And you don't even know her name."

"I know her name. It's Kate. Kate ... okay, I haven't learned her last name yet, but how do you ask someone their last name when you aren't ready for them to learn yours? I know enough. Know she loves motorcycles and intense art. Knows she reads like mad, even if she's never read my stuff. I know she has a crazy wicked sense of humor and is way too smart for me to keep up. So yeah, I like her. And you would too. Actually, you and Jim... you'd both love her."

He furrowed his brow when Johanna laughed, "What?"

"Nothing, Rick. You're smart, you'll figure it out. This is priceless. Just give her a chance. I doubt you screwed it up, in fact, I bet she was excited as hell to go out with you. Let her give you a chance. Just be honest with her, tell her what you are going through. Maybe she'll give you the time you need. And relax."

"Relax. Right. Because I'm not in the legal battle of my life, and I'm not trying to dive back into dating by going after the most amazing woman in existence, not in need of therapy, and I'm not constantly terrified that the woman I married isn't going to seriously mess up my daughter. Maybe I should convince my actress mother to move in with me, since my life lacks drama."

Johanna leaned forward on her desk. "We're going to win the legal battle, you're more extraordinary than you're giving yourself credit for right now, she went out with you once, which means she sees something in you, Martha is a hoot, and you're going to come to our Christmas party next week and unwind."

"I like how you slipped that last one in there."

"I am a lawyer. We're subtle."

"I'm not sure I'm up for a party."

"It's pretty low key. The whole Beckett clan, as you like to say, friends, a few clients, nothing too serious. Jim makes a hell of an eggnog, and my daughter and I make the best Christmas cookies in Manhattan."

"Oohh... If I come, I finally get to meet Baby Beckett?"

Johanna laughed again. "Oh, Rick, you have no idea."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I am becoming addicted to the email alerts telling me of a new follower or review. Thank you all, so much, for the kind reception here.

* * *

Kate:

"Mom, can you hand me the brown sugar?"

Johanna reached around to her side, grabbed the glass container she used for brown sugar, handed it to Kate. They'd been working side by side, mostly in comfortable silence, for a few hours. Johanna's kitchen wasn't particularly large, but Kate had helped her mother with various cooking duties enough over the years that they knew how to work together without getting in each other's way. Kate measured out the sugar, added it to the bowl in front of her while her mother checked on the batch in the oven and idly stirred the various pans on the stove.

"So, honey," Johanna said, "Are you going to make it tomorrow?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. We broke the ring last night, brought everyone in. That's why I had to miss our coffee. But the Captain was so pleased, he gave everyone tomorrow and the weekend. So I'll be here for all of it, the prep and the party."

"Terrific. Eggnog is much better for the Christmas spirit than prostitutes."

"You should send that to Hallmark," Kate said.

Johanna laughed. "I think I will. So, if you're coming... you bringing a date?"

"Mom."

"What? I distinctly remember you telling me you had a date last weekend. I have a right to follow up."

"No. I'm not bringing a date."

"It didn't go well?" Johanna asked, and Kate could swear she heard disappointment in her mother's voice.

Kate sat the mixer down on the counter, leaned back against the island. "It's not that. Actually, I thought my date went really well, at least at first."

"What was his name again?"

Kate looked over at her mother, wondering why her date's name was important. "Rick."

"And it was going well at first..."

"Yeah. He took me to this little Thai place over in midtown. I thought we'd go for romantic or something, but he suggested it, and actually it was really light and fun. You can tell by the way he dresses that he's got money, but... he's not pretentious, like some Wall Street jackass. He's really funny and charming and smart in a goofy bookish way. I've just ... I've never really dated a guy that made me laugh that much or made me feel so ... at ease. But, then it was like the coffeeshop all over again. We shared a cab back to my neighborhood. I invited him to the bar down the street for a late drink. I thought he'd accepted, but next thing I know, he's babbling out some excuses and jumping in a cab so fast you'd think I'd pulled my gun on him."

"Maybe he noticed how late it was. Maybe he was trying to be a gentleman."

"It was barely after ten, Mom. Maybe he was, but I really don't want everything to be two steps forward, one step back with this guy."

"It's been one date, honey. And that's still one step forward, overall. It's still progress. Other than that, would you want to see him again?"

Kate shook her head. Her mother seemed oddly invested in her date.

"Yeah, I really do. I just... there's something there, even if he does disappear at the oddest times. I mean, I really hope there is something there. I don't know what it is, don't know if I explain it...I just want... Oh, I know how. I started reading 'In a Hail of Bullets.'"

"What?" Johanna asked, surprised.

"He... we were talking about books. I think he likes mystery novels, just like you. He seemed really disappointed that I don't, so, I figured, maybe I should give them a try, right? And you keep telling me that Castle's books are the best."

Johanna chuckled, gave Kate a knowing smile that Kate couldn't quite parse. "So, do you like it?"

"Honestly? Yeah. I mean, I guess I get it. It's light and fun and really quick to read. I'm surprised, I guess. There's as much love and death and good and evil as Tolstoy, minus a whole lot of stuff about grain farming."

"So, when you see this guy again, are you going to tell him you started reading books for him that you wouldn't even read for your mother, even though she's begged you for years?"

"No, Mom. But yes, you were right and I was wrong, I really do enjoy the book."

Johanna tucked her tongue into the side of her mouth, like she was biting it. "You know, honey, he's coming to the party tomorrow."

"Which he are you referring to?"

Johanna gave her a look, but didn't speak. Kate shook her head. "You mean Richard Castle," she said.

"Yes, he's been your father's best client for five years now, we figured we're way past due to have him over." Of course her mother meant Richard Castle. Her mother didn't know Rick.

"Oh god, you're going to tell him I'm reading his book, aren't you? Embarrass your only daughter in front of your old friend? That's not at all Christmasy of you, Mom."

"No, I won't tell him. Besides, he's known I've read every one of his books over the years, and he doesn't tease me about it. So, if this guy, Rick, is worth reading mystery novels for, you should have him come to the party."

"I asked him out this time, Mom. If he's interested, he'll ask me out next time. Like you said, don't dive in. But I do sort of hope he asks soon."

"Or maybe you'll run into him when you least expect it."

Kate looked at her mother. She was not used to Johanna Beckett being coy.

* * *

Rick:

Rick stood outside the Beckett's front door for several minutes. He'd gotten his mother to take Alexis for the night and Saturday so that he could stay, have a few drinks, relax. But now, standing there, he wasn't sure he could go in after all. He didn't want to face a lot of people, despite his normally extroverted manner. Tonight he just wanted to go back down to the street, phone Kate, and see if he could cash in the raincheck on the drink she'd offered him. He had visions of them tucked into his favorite booth at The Old Haunt, each nursing a good single malt and letting the hours drift past them.

But then, in his daydreams, it would inevitably come to a point where he'd have to tell her about Meredith and Alexis and the divorce, and the light would go out of her eyes. Even in his most optimistic daydreams, she'd politely finish her scotch and then say goodnight, and he'd never see her again.

Dammit, he needed to shake off this funk. Maybe some eggnog and happy Becketts were exactly what he needed.

He knocked on the door, heard someone come to open it.

"Rick!" Jim said, answering the door. Rick smiled instantly at the man's ebullience, stepped inside the apartment, shaking Jim's hand. Jim turned, wrapped his arm around Rick's shoulder, somewhat awkwardly given Jim's shorter stature, and led Rick over to the drink table.

"Jo told me she invited you. Glad you made it. You up for some eggnog? We have two strengths, knock you on your ass, and knock you out cold."

"On my ass, for now, Jim."

"Coming up."

Rick looked around as Jim ladled out a glass of eggnog. As he did every year, Rick briefly wondered why there weren't more forms of nog. Ham nog. Pineapple nog. Pumpkin nog. He shook himself free of his musings, took the glass from Jim, and looked around. The Beckett's place was pretty decently sized, though smaller than his loft, but it had more of a familial and lived in feel than his place. He recognized a few of the guests, especially some of the other authors that Rick had convinced to hire Jim over the years. Everyone was relaxed, happy, enjoying the Christmas spirit and each other. Rick took a sip of the drink, felt himself relax. He could do this.

"So, the game sucked last night," Jim said.

Rick laughed. "Well, Wilkens couldn't coach water to flow downhill. They're going to ax him soon, I know it."

"At least I can take solace in the fact that I was alive the last time the Knicks won a championship."

"Hey," Rick said, "I was alive too. Sure, I was two months old... but, still counts."

"Sure, Rick, you tell yourself that. Hey, Connelly looks like he's trying to get your attention, and I suspect my wife or daughter needs my help. Stop by the kitchen after you talk to Mike, say hi to Jo."

"Will do, Jim. And thanks for having me."

"Anytime, Rick. Anytime. And not just because you pay me."

Rick laughed, patted his friend on the back, and made his way over to where the herd of writers had congregated. As he crossed the dining room, he saw a pretty woman putting out some more cookies. A pretty woman he hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

"Kate? What are you doing here?"

Kate stood up, her eyes getting huge as she saw him. "Rick, what ... it's my party. What are you doing here?"

Rick, unsure of whether he should give into his instinct and try to kiss her cheek, or if he should shake her hand, or do nothing, ended up flailing his hands around like he was trying to guide a plane in for landing.

"What do you mean, your party?"

"Well, my parent's party, anyway. They do this every year. Do you know them?"

"Oh my god," he said. "Oh my god, you're Kate Beckett."

"Yes, of course... oh, I guess we've never traded last names. You do know them. How do you know them?"

"Oh good," Johanna said, coming into the room, "You two found each other. Good to see you, Rick."

Rick leaned in, kissed Johanna's cheek and gave her a hug. As he straightened up, he could see the twinkle in his friend's eye.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked Johanna. "Knew who I was talking about the other day and didn't say anything."

"I figured it out, yes," Johanna said.

"Mom, how do you know Rick?" Kate asked, just the slightest edge in her voice.

"Oh, honey, Mr. Castle here has been a client of your father's for years," Johanna said, practically bouncing on her feet as she spoke.

"Wait, you're Richard Castle? There's no way..." Kate asked, turning to Rick. She slapped his arm. "You let me go on about how mystery novels are pablum and you didn't say anything?"

"Well, it's not everyday that someone so effectively destroys your life's work in front of you," he said with a cocky smile, teasing as best he could. His heartbeat sped up as he watched a charming blush rise on her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Rick," Johanna said, "I don't think she still feels that way."

"Moooommm!" Kate squealed. Rick couldn't stop himself and chuckled at her indignant noise.

"She's been reading 'Bullets' ever since your date."

"Mom!"

"Wait, if you didn't know it was my book, why did you read it?"

Kate huffed. "Mom's been extolling your virtues for years ... the virtues of your books that is ... so I figured that was a good way as any to start."

"You started reading my book just because I sort of insinuated you should give mysteries a chance?"

"Um," Kate said, biting her lower lip, "yes?"

"Wow."

"I should let you two talk," Johanna said. "I'll get out of your hair. But try a cookie, Rick. Kate made them. Oh, and both of you, don't forget what I said."

Rick watched Johanna leave, then turned back to Kate. Unsure of what to say, he reached down, grabbed a few cookies off the table, biting into one.

"These really are good."

"Thank you."

"Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Kate looked at him a minute. "Yeah, it's not too bad out tonight. Come with me," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

After stopping for their coats and a thermos of hot chocolate with Peppermint Schnapps, they ended up across the street, sitting on a set of swings in a little park. They traded the thermos back and forth for a moment, warming up, in the cool December night.

"Nice little park," he said.

"I used to come out, sit here when I needed to get away from Mom and Dad and think. Sorry, not the most elegant of surroundings."

He shrugged.

"So ... you're Rick Castle."

"And you're Kate Beckett," he said. At that moment, the absurdity of the whole thing hit him and he started laughing. "I feel like an idiot, not realizing... your Mom has been telling me stories for years."

"How embarrassing are these stories? Not the one about the fountain, senior year..."

"No, no embarrassing ones, though I want to hear this fountain story. Just... how smart you were, how happy she was that you were out of your wild child phase. How scared she was when you decided to go the the Academy, how proud she was when you made detective so fast."

"Mom... Mom's always been my biggest cheerleader. Even when I didn't see it, or think I needed it."

"You really don't look like that picture she keeps on her desk."

"Well, yeah, I was twelve in that picture, Rick. You didn't really think I was still in pigtails and glasses did you?"

"That seems like a question best not answered."

She rolled her eyes. "She kept telling me about you too, you know. Well, not about you, exactly... just about your books. She's been reading everything of yours for as long as I can remember. That's the reason ... that's the reason I hadn't read them. I couldn't let my Mom be right about everything."

He laughed. "Yeah, I get that."

"How old are you?"

"Huh, what? Where did that come from?"

"It's just... because you're Mom and Dad's friend, I guess I always pictured you as their age. You're obviously not, but if you're in your late forties or something, I'm ... well, you've held up pretty well."

"I'm not sure if there is a compliment in there or what. For the record... I'm thirty-two. The book thing - I got really lucky, managed to sell my first book when I was twenty. Got published at twenty-two, and it sold well. I was scared to death it was a fluke, so I had my second book done before my first one hit the shelves. I wrote twelve books in my first six years, then finally settled down to one a year after that. So it hasn't been forever, just a decade or so."

"That's quite a pace."

"Yeah, well, that bastard Patterson still manages to publish like six a year, but he has no life and they aren't as good as mine, so I guess it's fair. You know, I didn't ... I would have told you I was a writer, if it had come up. It just didn't."

"That was me. If I asked, then I'd have to tell what I did. But you already know, don't you, because of Mom?"

"Yeah."

"Well, most guys... if they aren't cops, it turns out they either have a cop fetish or they find it sort of intimidating."

"So it wouldn't be good to tell you I think it's scary hot?"

She frowned at him, but her eyes gave her away.

"What was it my mother was saying, about not forgetting what she said?"

Rick took a deep breath, blew it out his nose. "She was telling me ... I think you should know, your Dad isn't the only Beckett I've hired."

She sat back, looked at him for a minute. "She's not helping you adopt, is she?" She asked with a frown.

"No. My wife and I are getting divorced. Your Mom was telling me I should be honest with you. Well, honest with my date... I'm not sure she knew it was you, though she probably did. She knows everything. Anyway, I'm babbling. I'm getting a divorce."

"Rick ... I'm sorry."

"No, it's a good thing. I mean, it's not an easy thing, but it will be for the best when it's all done. Or so your mom says. But that's why I bailed on you that day at the shop, and why I didn't have a drink with you. Figured, at some point, it would have to come out, and that would be the end of it."

"I get that. I think."

"Meredith and I have been separated for nearly two years now, haven't been in love for far longer than that." He turned so that he was facing her. "Kate ... this isn't one of those things I figured I'd be saying after one date, but here goes. I think you're extraordinary and I want to keep seeing you, but I'm an idiot single dad in the middle of a divorce, and if that makes you run for the hills I can't blame you. But that's your choice, either way, and I shouldn't withhold things just to keep you from making it."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Well... sorry, Rick. I don't know what else to say. You've gone from being the cute guy at the coffeeshop I had one date with to a famous author who is a big part of my parents' lives and a lot of other stuff, all in about thirty minutes."

"Sorry. I hope it's not a deal breaker."

"No," she said quietly, "But I don't know what it is just yet."

"Look, again, this isn't one of those things I ever thought I'd be saying after one date, but... with everything that's going on, I think it's going to be awhile before I'm going to be in a place where I can have the type of relationship I want to have. Not until this divorce is behind me."

"I'm not sure what you're asking."

"I'm not sure what I'm asking either. I'm not sure I even am asking, really. I just ... wanted you to know. Good or bad, I wanted you to know."

They are both quiet after that, staring at the night sky and the twinkling of the white lights someone has hung around the roof of the building opposite. They took turns with the thermos, each otherwise lost in their own thoughts.

"You know," Kate says after she put the thermos down on the ground, "I've had a bad habit, over the years, of just ... going full steam ahead, right into a relationship. This guy in college, my training officer after the Academy, a guy last year. It hasn't worked out well. You wake up one morning, after six months or a year, and you realize you have glossed over some things in the rush that are actually a pretty big deal."

He chuckled. He knew the feeling.

"And... I like you too. I don't want to have you leave the party tonight and that be the end of it. So maybe... maybe we don't have the relationship either of us wants, but maybe we have the one each of us needs right now. Just, be friends for awhile, until we're both ready."

He smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I think we can do that. We just ... wait."

"Rick, if we have to wait ... if we're going to wait, there is one thing I'd like to find out first," she said, turning towards him. He turned towards her, so that they were face to face.

"What?" He asked.

Kate leaned forward, tilted her head slightly, and kissed him. She tasted like peppermint and cherries and gingerbread, and while he struggled to keep the kiss from becoming too deep, he couldn't keep himself from cradling her cheek in his hand, holding on to her and feeling the warmth spread throughout his body. He was going to live on the moment for a long time.

She broke the kiss, leaned her forehead against his, looked down at where their hands had become joined between them. "Sorry," she said with a breathless laugh, "just had to make sure."

He laughed too. "Yeah, because that's going to make it so much easier to stay just friends."

"Just for now. While we wait for more."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Duh.

* * *

"So, you two were pretty chummy last night."

Kate closed her eyes at her mother's words. She knew this was what she was in for when she decided to spend the night at her parent's apartment after the party, but she'd hoped to make it through at least one cup of coffee before the inquisition. She decided to ignore her mother and visit the coffeemaker instead.

"It was cute," Johanna continued, seeming to not care that she was being ignored. Kate sipped her coffee. After their talk, she and Rick had come back to the party, each heading off to mingle with different groups. However, every few minutes, even though they were both making an effort to keep their distances, they would find themselves back talking to each other. After her third or fourth egg nog, she just stopped thinking about it, decided to enjoy herself.

"Okay Mom, why didn't you warn me?" Kate said, sitting at the dining table. She'd felt fine, a little wary, but fine, when they were sitting on the swings last night. But this morning, waking up, she was wondering if she wasn't making a big mistake.

Her mother looked over the top of paper, "What? That Rick was coming to the party? Your face was too priceless to miss."

"No, that you knew he was my date, and about his ... situation."

"Honey, I didn't know he was your mystery coffee guy until after the fact."

"How did you find out anyway?"

"He told me about your 'if it's not Russian' line when we met on Wednesday. You overuse that, by the way."

"Mom."

"Fine. What exactly am I suppose to be warning you about, anyway?"

"He's married, Mom. Divorced. Divorcing... whatever. It's a big minefield no matter how you state it. And you let me walk into it."

"Maybe I didn't warn you because I don't think it's a minefield, honey."

"Come on, aren't you just a tad bit biased?"

"Because he's a friend? You're my daughter, you come first."

"Then why not, you know, a hint? Something?"

Johanna set her paper aside. "You're just pissed because he's already got you completely tied up in knots."

Kate huffed, put down her coffee. "No. Married. M. A. R. R ... ied. I've gotten myself in some dumb positions, dating wise, but I've never cheated, never helped someone else cheat. And if he was any other married guy, you'd be sitting here, telling me I'm an idiot."

"Maybe. But maybe that's because I know the truth here, and would just be guessing there. And maybe I like seeing you happy. You were smiling more after spending two minutes with him than I've seen you smile in a year."

"Just because he hadn't told me yet."

"You seem to think that this is your side versus his side, but I think you're both on the same side here. What exactly is bothering you... I get it, he's in the middle of a divorce, but what specifically?"

Kate looked at her mother. This was one of those instances when she hated that her mother was a lawyer. "I feel like, if something happened, he'd be cheating on his wife. That I'll get in way too deep and he'll go back to her. That I'm just a rebound. That if things don't work out, he'll still be a part of my life forever because of you and Dad. That he's going to be too much of an emotionally crippled wreck to ever be part of something real. That he's just going to want to play the field."

"Well, I guess those are all fair points. But, even if he wasn't married, wouldn't most of those worries still be there? I mean, you're not, under normal circumstances, going to know after one date if he's on the rebound or not. Or a 'crippled wreck' as you say."

"Yeah, okay, fine. But I can safely say the odds are much higher than normal."

"Kate... Look, yes, it's unfortunate that you met the man when he's in the middle of a divorce. Not the greatest timing, I'll agree. And Rick's circumstances aren't mine to share. But, I've known him for a long time. He's stubborn, sometimes childish, goofy, usually egotistical, and yeah, in some pain right now. But he's also smart and sweet and loyal and fun and if I actually thought there was a chance he'd hurt you, or be bad for you, I'd warn you off. But I don't and I'm not."

Kate leaned back in her chair, tried to chew on a piece of bacon. She didn't have an answer for that.

"Just, like I said. Take it easy. Take it slow. I'm sure he'd appreciate that right now and you could use it too. But don't give up because you think, somewhere down the line, something might go wrong. Especially when you want to see him again."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, honey. I can't figure out how you can go undercover, when you hide things so badly."

Kate just grunted. She hated when her mother was right.

* * *

She was proud of herself. She managed to wait two whole days before calling him. She'd tried to last longer, but after finding herself looking at his author photo at the back of her book for the twentieth time, she gave up. Part of her knew that he was the one who needed time, should be the one to set the pace, but she wanted to see him, and so finally she rationalized that it was just lunch. Yep, just lunch.

"This place is awesome. How can I not have come here before?"

They were tucked into her favorite burger place, Remy's, just down the street from the precinct.

"This is mostly a cop hangout, Rick. Do you have a habit of hanging out with cops?"

"For a burger like this? I could learn."

She smiled at him, dipped a fry into her shake.

"So, I have to ask, how'd you become a cop anyway?"

"How'd you become a writer?"

"I tried it and liked it and was good at it. By the time I was twenty-three, I was already successful enough I didn't have to think of doing anything else."

She hummed. "Mom's been so busy telling you stories about me, I don't know if she ever told you she was a defense attorney before she switched to family stuff?"

"Yeah, but I was asking you about you."

"Getting there, Rick. So, when I was a girl, I used to idolize Mom. Thought she was some sort of crusader. She'd be at the dinner table, every night, late, surrounded by books and papers. So, in January of my freshman year of college, she comes home really late one night, white as a ghost. She and my Dad had some long argument that night, and the next day, she quit her job. To this day, she won't tell me why. Dad quit too and they opened their practice."

Kate took a bite of her burger, collected her thoughts.

"So I'd come home during breaks and summers, and it was just like before; Mom surrounded by books at the dinner table, except this time, she isn't righting wrongs saving lives, she's just ... divvying up stuff. I was pre-law at the time. I'd thought, most of my life, that I'd get my degree, follow in her footsteps. But, all those summers, all those nights, I started to wonder. Did I really want to spend all of my time, pushing papers? Was there some other way I could make a difference? My senior year, the FBI recruited at Stanford... and I was interested, but then I thought, if I became a cop instead, at least I could stay in the city. So here I am."

"You happy with your choice?"

"What's with the twenty questions?"

"Sorry," he said through his burger. "I'll stop. Chalk it up to the job."

"No... I guess I'm happy. But I wonder though - if she hadn't quit that night, I probably would have followed her, become a lawyer. Odd how much your life can change on a moment, especially someone else's moment. And I do find it ironic, sometimes. I became a cop so I wouldn't be pushing papers, and ninety percent of the time, all I'm doing is paperwork."

He chuckled around a bite of his burger. "You know, I met a CIA agent once, about a year ago. She said her dirty little secret was that all she ever did was paperwork."

"Maybe that's all anyone does. Maybe the reason aliens have never tried to contact us is because they've looked at our world and thought the paper was in charge."

"Oh. I like that. Story idea - attack of the origami from space."

They both laughed.

"I could stand to get out of vice, though."

"You don't like vice?"

"It's kinda tough, even during the best of times, but... someone needs to go undercover, who do you think gets that assignment?"

He nodded, "Well, they have taste."

"For the record, saying I make a good prostitute? Not the best of angles."

He had the grace to look sheepish. "So what do you want to do then?"

"Hoping for homicide, or major crimes. But it's going to be awhile before I can earn a transfer."

He went to ask more, but just then a guy walked past them, stopped, turned back to their booth.

"Hey, Kate, haven't seen you in awhile."

She looked up, saw Aaron from the fraud division.

"Hey Aaron, good to see you. This is my friend Rick. Rick, Aaron's a fellow detective."

Aaron nodded slightly at Rick, didn't extend his hand, and immediately turned back to Kate. "I'm glad I ran into you. I got tickets to that show you said you wanted to see. What do you say? Grab a little dinner beforehand?"

She could feel Rick shifting uncomfortably across from her, but she didn't look at him. She'd known Aaron for a few months now. He was tall and athletic, with a squared off face dusted with bit of stubble and had the rough edge of a bad boy trying to be good. He was, in other words, her usual type. If he'd asked a month ago, she would have said yes, had been flirting with him before, hoping he'd ask. But now, even though she and Rick had agreed they weren't a thing, she still found she wasn't interested in anything with anyone else.

"I'm sorry, I can't. Covering a lot of people's shifts for the holidays, trying to earn some good karma."

"Maybe something after New Years then?"

Kate made a point of looking at Rick then, hoping Aaron would get the clue, hoping that Rick would too. She was waiting. She was fine with that. "I'm flattered Aaron, but..." she said, shrugging.

Aaron looked back and forth between her and Rick, seemed to realize what was going on.

"Well, fine. I thought, but I guess I was wrong. I'll see you around then," Aaron said. He knocked once, twice, on the table, sauntered off with a grumble.

She didn't watch him leave.

* * *

**A/N: **A little on the short side, I'm afraid. Life intervened. Apparently I still have to "work" at my "job" in order to "get paid" so that I can "eat." If only I could live on "air-quotes."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Castle, of course. But AM doesn't own Blorgon from Abraxos 8, so na na na. I'll trade...

* * *

Rick had never intended to call Dr. John Allen, never intended to pursue therapy. But then he'd kissed Kate under the stars and realized he was going to need help. He woke up, the morning after the party, and made an appointment with the therapist.

Now, three days after Christmas, he found himself sitting in an Eames recliner, thankful that the man didn't have a couch, recapping the last ten years of his life in a thirty minute digest.

"...I was in love with this girl, Kyra, in college. We dated for... three years? She was it, for me, all I wanted, and I thought she felt the same. But then, one day, she says she needs time to think. I never saw her again. After that, I just wanted to have fun. I was never going to get involved, go through all that again. I dated left and right, never let anything get serious or go on for any time. But I met Meredith at an after-wrap party that David dragged me to. She was so much fun, and crazy and I felt alive for the first time in a year. She got pregnant after a few months. She surprised me, decided she wanted to be a mother, so I proposed. I guess I'm surprised now that she accepted. At the time, I just figured I was doing everything right."

"Rick, this is helpful, but for today, why don't we concentrate on the last few years, what's brought you to the divorce, what brought you in to me."

"Well, the divorce ... I need Meredith away from Alexis, our daughter. She keeps doing things that hurt Alexis ... not physically, she's not abusive, she's just an unbelievable solipsist," he said, and recounted the story of their trip to Paris, the abandonment at Bergdorf, and a few others.

"And as for why I am here, what I don't get is, why now?"

"I'm not sure I follow," Dr. Allen said.

"My relationship with Meredith was, for all intents and purposes, over years ago. It probably ended the day Alexis was born. It never really would have happened at all if Alexis wasn't..." he said, with a shrug. He refused to give voice to the idea of an Alexis-free world. "I've known this was all coming for a long time. It's not a surprise. And even back when she started cheating on me, I felt angry, sure, but never ... I wasn't afraid. I didn't feel stupid or worthless or depressed. But now ..." he shrugged.

"But now you do."

"Yes. And isn't that dumb? I've had years to deal with this, so why is it all hitting me now?"

"Maybe it's real for you now in a way that it hasn't been before."

Rick played with a fraying thread on the arm of his chair, not looking at John. He thought about it for a minute.

"I guess. Maybe, until now, it was always a plot point I could change. Until it goes to the publisher, I'm still in control, something like that. But... this hasn't been a point I've wanted to change. I mean, I've wanted to put it off, sure, because none of it is going to be fun, but... I never thought, 'Wow, I hope Meredith and I turn things around, fix our marriage.'"

"Maybe not, but it is different, thinking about something as a hypothetical versus dealing with the actual fallout."

"I just feel like a failure."

"Well, two things about that. First, failing is not the same as being a failure. Second, if you feel like you failed in your marriage, I'd like to know what you think that you could have done differently to make it a success?"

Rick stared out the window. "I really don't know. I wish I did. Then I could not make the same mistake again."

"Let me offer this, at least as something to think about until our next session. Was marrying Meredith the best thing you could have done, not knowing what you know now, but knowing what you did when you married her? Is divorcing her the best thing you can do, knowing what you know now?"

Rick went to answer, but John held up his hand. "No, don't answer now. Just enjoy your New Years, and try to think about what I've asked. We'll talk about it next week."

* * *

Kate sat in the break room of the precinct, watching the New Year's festivities on an ancient television where most of the colors had faded out over the years. She couldn't tell if the blue-gray blob that was talking was Dick Clark, Ryan Seacrest, or Blorgon from Abraxos 8, not that it really mattered. She was the lone detective on on premises, since oddly enough, New Year's was not a particularly busy night for Vice. Too many legal options for debauchery, she figured.

She felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket. Five minutes to midnight, she guessed there was only one person who'd call.

Well, only one person she wanted to be calling.

"I'm not waking you, am I?" Rick said without preamble.

"I'm at the station. On call tonight. I figured you'd be at some glamorous famous people party."

"Famous people don't do amateur night."

"Oh, of course."

"Actually, they do, but I don't, unless I have a book I have to promote. So I'm just watching the ball drop with Alexis."

Rick had mentioned Alexis a few times, told her a few stories over the phone. But Kate had yet to meet Alexis, so she had no picture in her head of the little girl.

"Sounds fun," she said. She wanted to ask a question, but nine year olds were a mystery to her. What could she ask that didn't sound stupid?

He chuckled. "We do this every year we can, at least since she's been old enough to know what a new year meant. She always wants to stay up, see the ball drop. She hasn't made it yet, though tonight she did make it to almost eleven."

"So that's it, it is? Your company falls asleep on you and you call me out of boredom?"

"I was going to call you anyway. So, what is being on call like?"

"Normally? Just like working. Tonight? I'm keeping myself awake with bad coffee and Farnsworth's original TV. Which reminds me, are we watching Dick Clark or Ryan Seacrest? I'm watching channel four."

She heard him flipping channels in the background.

"Wow, that is a crappy TV. It's actually Regis Philben."

"Oh," she said, laughing, "Then I guess I'm glad I can't see."

"I wish you were here."

"Rick... as much as I wish I weren't here, being there probably wouldn't be the smartest idea, given the whole going slow thing."

"No, I suppose not. I'm not saying you should be here, just that I'd be happy if you were."

"Fair enough," she said, leaning back on the breakroom couch. "And me too. I could come by for breakfast."

He laughed. "Kate, please don't make me have to be the voice of reason. It's not a good look on me."

"Okay. Is it okay to say that I hope we aren't ringing in 2006 apart then?"

She heard the catch in his breathing, realized she'd pushed too far.

"I'm sorry, Rick."

"It's fine, Kate. It's fine," he said. She could hear in his voice that it wasn't, but that he was trying. "I can't promise anything right now... but I hope that too."

"So, did I tell you about the pimp we brought in last week, who'd been catering to elf-fetishists?" she asked, changing the subject.

"That's a thing?"

"One thing you learn, at this job? Every thing is a thing."

"I need to start writing these stories down. You're like, five books worth of material."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** The story has approached an odd confluence of round numbers - 20,000 words, 5,000 visitors, 10,000 hits, 100 reviews ... I really like round numbers. I always hurt myself on pointed ones. What I really mean to say is, thank you, so much for you wonderful wonderful readers.

* * *

"Okay, so I probably still would have married Meredith. I had no idea she'd cheat. No idea she'd take one look at Alexis and decide parenting wasn't for her."

Dr. Allen made a note on his pad. "Good, Rick. I'm glad you thought about it. It's a difficult lesson many people have trouble learning. We have an experience, learn from it, and then wonder why we had the experience in the first place, knowing what we know now."

"Yeah," Rick said, "I get it. But I still wonder..."

John sat quietly, let Rick work it out for himself.

"...I'm starting to think... I don't think it's really my marriage that's bothering me. Or the divorce. It's what comes next."

"And in your mind, Rick, what does come next?"

"I don't know. I can't see it. I mean, I've always ... it's never been a problem, getting a date. I could do that, all the time, if I wanted. Just be some sort of ... I don't know, celebrity playboy or whatever? That's not what worries me. What worries me is, what if that's all I'm good at?"

"I take it that isn't what you'd want."

"No, it's not. I tried it, after Kyra, and a little after Meredith and I split. It can be a lot of fun, but it gets boring a lot faster than you'd think. However, if that's all I'm capable of..."

John nodded as Rick tapered off. "I think this is good. You were asking before, 'why now?' and I think we have our answer."

"Why I am feeling all of this now, and not when things first went into the crapper," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes, as you say. With this divorce, you are now opening yourself up to the possibility of a meaningful relationship with someone else, and that's the real worry."

"You're saying that I've been hiding. Staying married to Meredith was a way to, what, keep myself holed off from trying again?"

"Exactly. You did say she moved out nearly two years ago. Things could have ended then, if you'd wanted."

Rick rubbed his temple with his hand, grimaced up at the ceiling.

"Okay, so, if I was hiding, and now I can't... that doesn't solve the essential problem."

"Which is?"

"What if I just suck at this? What if I'm alone because, you know, I'm supposed to be alone? 'cause, Doc, I gotta tell you, I really don't like being alone. I've been alone for a long time now. I'd really like to shoot for, you know, something else. But I was obviously not good enough for Kyra, and not good enough for Meredith, and not good enough for Kate, and I'm just going to be stuck, forever..."

"I'm sorry," John interrupted. "It's just that you've never mentioned Kate before."

"Kate is this woman... I just met her. We had a date, right before I started seeing you."

"And it didn't work out?"

"No, it worked out just fine, for the most part."

"I'm afraid, then, that I have lost the thread of what you are trying to tell me."

"It worked out fine. But I'm good at this part. When it's all light and fun and meaningless, yeah, women like me. It's only later that they grow bored, or ... or ... hell, I don't even know what they grow. I don't know why they give up, they just do. Maybe if I did, I could get them to stop. But they all do, so I don't really need to look ahead to know Kate'll grow bored too. That my life will just be an ever repeating sequence of women growing bored of me before I just give up, get lots of cats. Or dogs. Cats aren't really a manly animal to horde."

"So how are you handling it, this fear of women growing bored?"

"Badly. I mean, I can't seem to stay away from her and things will be great, but then sometimes, it will all hit, and I can't ... it's like there's this big ... wall, in front of me," he said, pantomiming his hands in front of himself, "and it just blocks me."

"That is a natural response, Rick. It's just a matter of time and desire, whether that wall helps you or hurts you."

"How could it help?"

"We all build up defense mechanisms to protect ourselves. If they protect us, that's useful, but if they prevent us from getting what we want, prevent us from being who we want to be, then we need to tear them down."

Rick worked his fingers over the arm of the easy chair, pulling at all the threads he'd already worked loose. As was becoming his habit, he thought of Kate, thought of the light pinging electric happiness that came over him when he was around her. Thought of how, talking to her, he felt like something more than he was the rest of the time, felt somehow new and raw and bathed in sunlight. He knew some of that would fade, that some of it was just the energy that came from meeting and connecting with someone new. But there was something more too, something undefinable that seemed to surf at the ragged edge of his thoughts, that caused an ache in his fingers. He wanted to pull it back, find it, hold it close to him, even when it scared him. He didn't know where things would end up with Kate, but ... he wanted.

"I want to try. I want to try to tear down that wall."

"Then that's what we'll do."

* * *

Rick sat on the left side of the Beckett's conference table, idly tracing a grain of the wood with his finger. Beside him, Johanna laid out the terms of their most recent proposal, but he only half listened. Instead, he watched Meredith and her lawyer as they listened to his terms. Barrows didn't react, but Meredith did her best fake indignant grimace when Johanna got to the custody request. Rick might have believed it, if he hadn't seen her use it a hundred times before.

"Again, Ms. Beckett, we have to insist that full custody for Mr. Castle is unacceptable to us," Barrows said when Johanna finished.

"You can't expect me to be without my daughter," Meredith said.

"Meredith, come on. You barely have anything to do with her now," Rick said in a huff.

"Rick, how dare you insinuate that I don't love Alexis ..."

Meredith went on, a practiced soliloquy obviously already arranged and rehearsed. Castle stopped listening, let his mind wander. This was the fourth time they'd met in four weeks, and Castle was getting tired. He let his mind wander to where it most often had in the last several weeks, to Kate.

After their talk on the rooftop deck, they'd gone back to the party and separated. Castle talked to several people, but every few minutes, he found that they had gravitated back to each other. He kissed her again at the end of the night, sadly against the cheek that time, and then went home to a long sleepless night of swirling undefinable thoughts.

Since then, they hadn't seen each other as much as he would have liked. He'd wanted to invite her over for Christmas dinner or New Year's Eve, but couldn't find a way to do so that wouldn't dip too far into the romantic. The best he could do was a few lunches, here and there, and a conversation on the phone as the ball dropped, a promise for a good things in 2005. After the New Year, the mediated sessions with Meredith and her lawyer had started up, but he'd only caught Kate for coffee once after the sessions, the other times missed because of rescheduling or because of her casework.

"...and I've cleared my entire schedule to be with her more," Meredith said, "In fact, I..."

"Wait," he said, hearing the last part of Meredith's diatribe, "You aren't working right now?"

"By choice, Rick, by choice, so I can spend more time with Alexis."

Castle had heard that she'd been fired from her last production. He had to give her credit for the excellent spin. However, it gave him an idea. He worked out some of the details in his head as Barrows and Johanna went back in forth, felt oddly buoyant by the time the session wrapped. He had a plan, and plans always made him happy.

After Barrows and Meredith left, he and Johanna walked back to her office. He followed Jo into the room, losing his breath at what he saw. On the couch sat Kate, her arm casually draped over his nine year old daughter, as Alexis explained some book to the Detective. Rick could feel his heart skip several beats at the sight.

* * *

Kate got to her mother's office a little faster than normal, slightly disappointed that Rick hadn't been at the coffeeshop for one of their impromptu dates. Even though she knew they were just in a sort of holding pattern, she wished she'd been able to see him more in the last few weeks, but life kept intervening. At least now, when they couldn't see each other, they could talk on the phone. She'd spent more evenings on the phone than she had since she was sixteen. They were getting to know each other in a way she really liked.

But she still wanted to see him.

She walked past Nicole and went into her mother's office. Her mother wasn't there, but a young girl was. She was sitting on the couch, reading. She was about eight or nine, with long beautiful straight red hair that ended almost near her waist. She looked up as Kate walked in.

"Aunt Johanna isn't here, but she's supposed to be back soon."

"Oh," Kate said, surprised by the little girl's serious demeanor. "Um, that's okay. I'll wait. I'm her daughter, Kate." She felt oddly compelled to explain herself.

"Okay. I'm Alexis. Have you read this book before?" Alexis asked, holding up her book so Kate could see the cover.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't." She sat down next to Alexis, looked over the girl's shoulder at the book. So this was Rick's daughter. She'd thought he was kidding when he called her more grown-up than he was.

"It's very good, do you like to read?"

"Yes, I do. A lot."

"My Dad's a writer, that's where I get my love of books from. This one is good. It's part of a series."

"Oh, what is it about?"

"This book, or the series?"

"Either, I guess."

"Oh ... the whole series is about a boy named Taran. He's an orphan, and his job is to take care of a very important pig that is psychic."

"A psychic pig?"

"It's a fantasy series. They can do that in fantasy novels."

"Oh, okay," Kate said with a laugh. She found herself sliding closer to Alexis. She couldn't help it, the girl was adorable.

"Taran has been facing off against evil with the help of his friends," Alexis continued. "This book is the fourth one in the series. He's fallen in love with his friend Eilonwy, but she's a princess, so he can't marry her, since he's just an orphan. I think that's dumb... people should marry who they want, but I guess that's how it's supposed to work in books like this. But, since he's an orphan, he's left his farm and gone off to see if he can find his parents and find out where he came from, because maybe he's the son of a knight or a king, and then he'd be allowed to marry Eilonwy."

"It sounds good."

"It is. I liked the other books better, since his friends are in those, and he's pretty much alone in this one, but I can't stop reading a story once I've started it, and I looked ahead, and Taran's friends are all back in the last book, so I'm trying to get to that one fast. I think they are my favorite books right now. What's your favorite?"

"I've been reading your Dad's books. I like them a lot."

"So they are your favorites?"

"No, not yet. My favorite is a book called Master and Margarita."

"That sounds weird."

"It is, it has a giant cat."

"So it's fantasy too."

Kate laughed. "Sort of."

"Is it like Phantom Tollbooth? That has a giant dog with a clock in his side."

"You two look cute," she heard. She looked up from Alexis's book to see Rick in the doorway, her mother going to her desk. She blushed upon seeing him, though she wasn't sure why.

"Hi Dad," Alexis said.

"Hi, Pumpkin. Have you been good for Nicole and Kate?"

"Of course, Dad," Alexis said, rolling her eyes. "Did you get your important thing with Meredith done?"

Kate startled a little, hearing the girl refer to her mother as Meredith, but she recovered.

"Everything's okay," he said. "You ready for dinner?"

"I still want Italian. Can Aunt Johanna and Kate come too?"

Kate looked over at Rick, not sure how to proceed. He smiled at her, tilted his head in invitation.

"I don't know, honey, maybe we should ask them. They might not be free."

"I'm sorry, Alexis," Johanna said, "but I can't. I think Kate's free though."

Kate looked over, saw the sly smile on her mother's face. "I could eat," Kate said. She wanted to spend more time with Rick and Alexis, and didn't care that her mother would tease her for it later.

"You'll like this place," Alexis said. "They have really good pasta."

* * *

Kate had trouble twirling her carbonara because she was laughing so hard.

She'd gone with the Castles to Coco Pazzo, a little place a few blocks from Rick's loft in Soho. She loved the place immediately, the red clay tiles on the floor, the plants around all the walls, all adding to the feeling that she was in someone's sunroom for a family meal. The owner had hugged Alexis when they'd entered, had gushed over Rick and Kate. She'd felt simultaneously at home and overwhelmed.

Dinner had been both excellent and fun, with Alexis and Rick sharing some of Rick's crazier parenting mishaps.

She stopped laughing, got herself under control. "Seriously Rick, marshmallow in a waffle iron?"

"It should have worked."

"Four firetrucks showed up, Dad."

"I contend the theory was sound. I am going to find a way to make a smore into a breakfast food."

"Maybe an omelet," Kate said.

"Ooooohhh..."

"Eggs and chocolate don't sound good, Dad."

"Hush, daughter of mine. I think Kate owes us a crazy story now."

She swallowed hard. Both Rick and Alexis turned to her, gave her identical inquisitive looks.

Did she have a funny story that was nine year old appropriate?

"Okay," she said, deciding to forego any high-school or college stories. She was pretty sure Rick wouldn't approve of Alexis knowing those, even if he secretly might enjoy them himself. She settled on one that was largely okay. "I was patrol back when this happened. I hadn't been a cop long, maybe six or eight months. My partner and I were walking through Central Park, and there are these two guys standing there talking. Two guys who'd never, in a million years, be friends. So we see the little guy hand something off to the big guy, and the big guy pays him for it, but both of them are looking nervous, so I start to get worried..."

She put down her fork, started to enjoy storytelling.  
"We jog over there, and the two guys see us and just scatter. My partner at the time was a big guy - but for some dumb reason, he takes after the little guy, leaves the big guy for me. And I mean huge. He had to be six six, three hundred and fifty pounds."

"Is that really big?" Alexis asked.

"Like a giant, pumpkin," Rick answered. Kate smiled.

"Exactly like a giant. Big and scary-looking with a long troll's beard and a bald head and covered in tattoos, and he runs away from me. I'm surprised because he's fast, really fast, and for a second, I think he's going to get away, but I finally catch up to him, starting yelling for him to stop. But he doesn't stop, so... well, I'm not sure why I did this next part."

"What?" Alexis asked.

"I tried to tackle him. I jumped on him, but he was so much bigger than me, it didn't do anything. He just kept running."

Kate leaned back, took a breath, returned the encouraging smile Rick gave her.

"So now, I'm on his back, trying to pull him down, and it's like your dad giving you a piggyback ride. He just keeps running, and I'm yelling in his ear, and people are stopping and watching us. It's a huge mess, and finally I remember I have a gun, threaten to shoot him if he doesn't stop. I guess he finally hears me, because we get near the fountain and he slows to a stop. Right in the middle of a huge crowd of people, he's standing there, with me on his back."

"Oh... please tell me this is what I think it is. This was like, three years ago, wasn't it?" Rick asked. She blushed.

"Yeah, it is. I arrested him in front of everyone. There were people taking pictures. I guess a guy from the Post was in the crowd. We hauled him back to the station, and I'm proud as can be because its my first bust. But when we sit him down, his lawyer is already there."

She took a deep breath. "Turned out, it wasn't drugs the guy was buying. At least, not illegal ones. He was a lineman for the Giants. Was buying masking agents. I could have been in a lot of trouble, but he just wanted to make it go away as fast as possible. Unfortunately, my picture ended up in all the papers. Everywhere I looked, there I was, riding on the back of a New York Giant as he ran through Central Park. There was even video. I got teased about it for weeks."

Rick laughed, but Alexis looked puzzled. "But piggyback rides are fun. If it wasn't fun, you should get one from Dad. He does the best piggyback rides."

Kate's and Rick's eyes both grew wide, before they both started laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I own a Castle. It's made of lego. It is not the Castle of this story, though.

* * *

He opened his front door in one quick burst. When he saw it was Johanna, he gave her a thin smile, went back to racing around his loft.

He knew he should stop and thank his lawyer for making a house call. He knew he should offer her a drink or a place to sit. But he couldn't. Too much energy, too much everything.

"Okay, super squirrel, you wanna tell me why you're running around like this?" Johanna asked.

"Here," he said, gesturing towards the dining room. "I just can't... just ... look. Dammit." He couldn't form words into sentences today. He rubbed his hand through his hair, stalked off into the kitchen to get a drink. He could care less that it was ten am.

Across his dining table, a half dozen papers were scattered. Paula had called him first thing in the morning with the news, and he'd proudly managed to get Alexis out of the house for a playdate before going to the newsstand and grabbing every paper he could find. Somewhere between walking home and now, he'd just... lost it.

"Oh. This, yes..." Johanna said, staring at the papers. "This isn't... I can see why you called."

"Can I sue them? Alexis is going to see this ... it's slander, or libel, or something. The one that's the written one. Dammit... I can't even remember... Jo, help. Please."

Johanna spread the papers out, separated them from the mess Rick had made. She lined them up.

Rick watched her, couldn't quite parse what she was doing. Just talk, dammit, he thought to himself. Give me something to do.

"Rick, we knew this would get out into the press, though with the spread... I'm guessing Meredith leaked it. Suing them right now won't get us anywhere. We need to focus..."

"I'm focused, dammit!" he said, slamming his drink down on the counter. He missed, catching the edge, and the glass flipped out of his hand, landed on the floor, shattering. He ignored it. "They aren't saying I'm getting a divorce! They're accusing me of cheating my way across half of New York... hinting that I drag Alexis along... I ... I ..." The words devolved until he was making some sort of keening noise low in his throat. Some small part of him was still there, watching his own behavior at a distance, but it had no control over his actions.

The pictures, in their proper context, would have been considered innocent. But wrapped in headlines of infidelity and innuendo, they looked horrible. Kissing a fan on the cheek at a press event, talking to a barista at a Starbucks, giving his editor a one-armed hug outside of Black Pawn. Having dinner with Alexis and Kate.

He collapsed down on the floor, his back coming to rest against the under-sink cabinet. His scotch had dripped across the tile, and quickly soaked into his jeans. His hand was bleeding from where he put it down on some broken glass, but he was only vaguely aware of the pain. He really didn't care. He slammed his head back against the counter.

Things went a bit ... black ... after that.

* * *

They were in his bathroom, the one off the kitchen that was for guests that he never actually used. He has no idea how they got there, but he was sitting on the toilet, Johanna kneeling in front of him. She's got his hand in hers, is doing something to it.

She was bandaging it. Oh.

"Jo... I don't think this falls into the normal set of things a lawyer does."

"Yes, well, Jim and I run a full service law firm. Welcome back, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You've been in some sort of fugue state for the last twenty minutes."

"Oh, yeah, I don't ... did you drag me in here?"

"You walked. You weren't talking, but you followed orders. Feeling better?"

"No. But I seem to be able to think again."

"Good. All done. Come with me," she said, dragging him out of the bathroom. He looks at his right hand. It was covered in gauze and bandages. He wouldn't be writing for awhile.

She pulled him back into the living room, deposited him on the couch.

"You ready to talk now?" she asked, standing over him.

"No."

"But you're going to."

He tried to rub his face, winced as he brought his hand up. "If I have to."

"First off, where is Alexis?"

"Um, when I realized today was going to be ... bad ... I dropped her off for a playdate with her friend Maggie. She'll be there until dinner."

"Good, smart. Nice to see you're thinking a little anyway." She sat down beside him on the couch. He didn't turn to look at her. "Okay, then, are any of the pictures true?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you, in fact, slept with any of them?"

Rick got angry, "You're daughter is one of the women in those pictures, Jo."

"That's not what I'm asking, Rick."

She shook his head. Getting angry at Johanna wasn't satisfying. "No. There was one ... one night stand ... about six months after Mere moved out, when it finally dawned on me that this was all... whatever. There were a few near-misses after that, and one woman that lasted about a month. Oddly, none of them made the paper. And I haven't slept with Kate."

"Mmmmm... well, it was your lawyer asking, not Kate's mother, but good to know, I guess. Here's the thing, Rick. In a divorce, especially in a custody battle, the court, and the court of public opinion, are going to side with the wife. And Meredith, or rather her lawyer, knows that. This is ... I tried to tell you this, but I guess I didn't make it clear enough - they are going to throw everything they can at you, hoping something will stick. None of this is your fault... but if you aren't careful in how you react to it, you could do some damage. Real damage, just like that hand of yours."

The anger finally left him then. "God, Jo, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost it like that."

"Once is acceptable, especially in the confines of your own home. But just this one, okay? Every time you act out, she's going to win a little more."

"I'm not trying to get angry, Jo. I just can't stop myself today."

"You can be as angry as you want, because quite frankly, it's a shitty place to be, right now. But you can't act on it. You can't talk to the press, you can't bad mouth her in private to anyone who has the slightest chance of sharing that information, can't say anything remotely bad about her in a place you'll be overheard. You can't be caught punching a wall or drinking in the morning or being anything but the perfect father and generous person that everyone is used to. If you need to get angry, go write up one of those particularly gruesome murders you're good at, make Meredith the victim. Though, please, when you're done, delete whatever you write. Oh, and clean up your mess."

"I'm trying."

"No, that wasn't metaphorical. I took care of your hand, but you still have a puddle of scotch and glass in your kitchen."

"Oh. So I take it the legal part of the conversation is over."

"No, one last thing - I still have permission to hire help, if I need it, right?"

"'Course."

"Good. I know someone. We'll work on the papers. And no, I'm not going to sue them. But, we'll try to quiet this down."

"Jo, I really am sorry. I've never... it was like I was outside myself, looking in."

"You're meeting with John, right?"

"Once a week."

"Good. You're not Superman. As your lawyer, I have to tell you, don't do it again. But as your friend? They say the only thing more stressful than divorce is a major injury or loss of a loved one," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "And that's for us regular people who don't have to watch the news comment on everything. All things considered, one broken glass isn't too bad."

He turned, ducked his head into Jo's shoulder. "Jo, why the hell aren't you telling Kate to run for the hills?"

"Because you got angry and broke a glass?"

"Because this is a minefield she doesn't have to be a part of."

"That's funny, she called it a minefield too."

"That's because she's smarter than I am."

"This is temporary, Rick. Unpleasant ... well, down right complete crap, but temporary. It doesn't change who you are. Even in a moment as bad as this one, you had the wherewithal to protect Alexis and ask me for help..."

"...Yell at you and demand revenge..." he interrupted.

"Ask me for help. That's the Rick I know and choose to be friends with, makes me know this isn't going to crush you underneath it."

"It isn't? Feels like it already has. Didn't you notice? I'm only about 1 inch tall now."

"And yet still making jokes."

"Oh, yeah, well I'll still be cracking jokes from my grave."

* * *

Rick clutched his phone to his ear with his shoulder while he answered his front door with his free hand. He found Kate holding a big bag of Chinese food standing on the other side. She looked exhausted.

"Hold on a sec, k," he said into the phone. He reached over, took the bag and pulled her through the door, towards the couch. She collapsed in a heap while he took the bag to the kitchen.

"Gimme a sec?" he asked Kate. She nodded, then closed her eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that, Tom," he said into the phone as he took the food into the kitchen and unpacked.

"It's fine, Rick. You're sure about this, right? You're leaving a lot of money on the table."

"You pull this off, it's worth it, trust me."

"'K, well, it'll take some time."

"It's okay, I understand. But, Tom?" he asked, looking back at Kate in the living room, "Faster is better, okay?"

"Got it."

Castle hung up, dropped the phone on the counter. He loaded up two bowls with sweet and sour, won-tons, and shrimp fried rice. He carried the bowls back to the living room, handing one to a nearly sleeping Kate.

"Thanks. Where's Alexis?"

"Lion King with my mother. I guess she and the set designer were an item, years ago."

"I don't think your mother exists. There's no way she can be real, based off all the stories you've told me."

"Sadly, I've tried to keep it to the tame side. Trust me, you aren't ready for the crazier stuff."

"Rick, I'm a vice cop. Last night I busted a pimp who cross-dressed like Dorothy from Wizard of Oz."

He laughed. "One of these days, Kate, I'm going to quiz you... oohh.. I could shadow you at work."

She shook her head. "You'd be bored in an hour and I'd kill you in two."

"You're probably right. It's good to see you, but you didn't have to come over."

"Tired of me already?"

"You just seem dead on your feet."

"Always a charmer. I'm exhausted, but I ... a CI who helps me out, she got beaten pretty badly today. She won't tell me why. She's going to be in the hospital for weeks, and I can't do anything about it, not if she keeps choosing to stay quiet."

He moved from his spot to sit close to her on the couch. She tilted over, leaned against him, closed her eyes. He rubbed circles on her arm, the base of her skull, the crown of her head. After a few minutes, she looked up, gave him a thin smile of thanks.

"Why don't you go, take a hot shower, stay here tonight in the guest room. We can put something silly on the TV."

She nodded, but didn't move. He held her close, enjoying the smell of her, the feel of her. It was all too much for comfort, but he unable to stop. Finally he realized he had to let her go, if he was ever going to be able to let her go.

"Come on, Detective," he said, tugging her forward. She got up, walked listlessly up the stairs to the guest bathroom. He watched her go, wanting to be able to do more to comfort her, afraid he was going to screw up this one little thing.

While she was in the shower, he set up the sheet in his study so they could watch a movie on the projector. He went upstairs, left her a fluffy robe and a pair of shorts he'd shrunk but never thrown out, took her clothes down to get them clean.

She came down a few minutes later, dwarfed by his huge robe, but looking happier and refreshed. She walked into his study, sat on his couch with her legs curled underneath her. The robe fell away slightly, and he could see a bit of her bare knee and calf.

He was more turned on by a bit of calf than he'd ever been turned on by a naked Meredith.

That was not good. They were still on the go slow plan. He was still sure he'd screw everything up.

* * *

Kate let the water of Rick's huge shower run over her, rinse out the ache of the day. He was right, she was starting to feel better. It was going to be weeks until she got the sight of Sparkle lying in the hospital bed. Kate had taken one look at the poor woman, battered to within an inch of her life, and had almost stormed out to arrest her pimp. But Sparkle would never testify, and Kate had left the hospital dejected. Days like today, she wondered how long she could do this. When she'd gotten off work and gotten in her car, she hadn't driven home like she'd thought. Her car had just made it's way to Rick's place, without her thinking about it.

It was getting harder to stay away from him.

She liked the slow plan. She was a big fan of the slow plan. But it was getting closer and closer to impossible to stay away from him and Alexis. She knew that it was harder for him, that he had a big barrier to get past before they could really be together.

Still, it was hard to keep from pushing. She'd never been the one to do the chasing before, didn't know entirely what to do. But she knew she was falling in love with him, had known for awhile. She wanted to find a way to give back to him the way he gave to her.

She rinsed her hair, turned off the water. She dried her hair and wrapped a towel around herself. She'd jumped into the shower without thinking about it, but now realized she had to put her clothes from the day back on. She went out in to the guestroom to grab the clothes she'd stripped and left on the bed.

Her clothes were gone, but a robe and some shorts were there in their place.

Thoughtful man.

She dried off and wrapped herself in the robe, able to smell him in the terrycloth. She went to the mirror, tried to use her fingers to clear the tangles out of her hair. Looking in the mirror, she wasn't happy with how she looked, but she knew she that looked, and felt, a good deal better when she'd showed up at his door an hour ago.

She went downstairs, found him fluttering boyishly in his office. He'd spread a big white sheet in front of his bookshelves. She loved this goofy, carefree side of him, loved how it poked out more and more as she got to know him and he seemed to recover from the divorce.

She sat down on his couch, tucking her legs under her. She liked the look of lust that passed over his face when he caught sight of her legs, decided not to pull the robe up over her knees.

"So, what're we watching?" she asked.

"The Phantom Menace."

"Rick... come on. That movie is crap."

"Don't you trust me?"

She shook her head, enjoying his exuberance too much to argue with him. He sat down next to her, deliciously close, and used a remote to start the movie. She watched the opening scroller, not really paying attention to the movie as much as the man beside her, who seemed to be anticipating a really bad movie way too much for his normal level of taste. She shook her head.

The action started, but instead of of Liam Neeson and Ewan MacGregor's voices, she heard Rick and someone she didn't recognize.

"Rick, what is this?"

"Sshhh... just listen, Kate."

When the lightsabers started up, instead of the normal iconic zing, she heard someone making swooshing noises with their mouth. She burst out laughing. "Seriously, Rick..."

He paused the movie. "Patterson wanted to punk George Lucas, so he got me, Connelly, Cornwall, and a bunch of others to act out a script he'd made up. George was ... so not happy. We had to promise to destroy all the copies we made, so, of course, this doesn't actually exist."

"Of course. Because otherwise I'd have to arrest you for copyright violations."

Rick resumed the movie. After an hour, Kate could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard. At one point Rick, who was playing "Oh-Bla-De Ken-Oboe" had decided to switch over to a bad Scottish accent, while Cornwall kept breaking character to scold him. Apparently they'd all been drinking heavily during "production" and had agreed on a no-second-take rule. Rick's character spent the whole Darth Maul fight scene singing Danny Boy, and Kate spent the whole scene curled over, laughing until her eyes watered, clutching Rick for dear life.

It took several minutes after the credits rolled for them to calm down and recover enough to talk. Kate wiped her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths.

"So, how often do you show this to people?"

"I told you Kate, this doesn't exist."

"Of course. So?"

"I showed Mom and Alexis. Neither of them got it. Other than you, that's it."

"I'm honored."

"I figured you'd could use it."

"Thank you."

"Always."

She looked down, caught sight of his lips and the way she'd basically curled into him during their laughing session. Without thinking about it, she leaned forward, put her lips to his.

He returned the kiss briefly, then gently pushed her away.

"Kate, you should get some sleep."

"Rick... I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."

"Kate... it's fine. Really. I'm not stopping you be cause I don't want you to kiss me, you know?"

She understood. It wouldn't take much to move from the couch to his bedroom, a few feet away. She nodded.

"Good," he said. He leaned forward, kissed her crown. She leaned in, hugged him. "Head up to bed, Kate. I washed your clothes, I'll bring them up to you."

She stood up, turned back to him.

"Rick..."

"I know, Kate."

She smiled thinly, not entirely sure what she'd meant to tell him, but feeling glad for the connection anyway. She reached out, pushed a lock of his hair away from his forehead, let her finger crest over the curve of his ear. He closed his eyes.

She left the room, went up to bed. As she tucked herself into the wonderfully comfortable guest bed, she knew she wouldn't get any sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Man, I don't own squat. Largely because squat is rather expensive, and i want to save for a pony.

**A/N: **We're right near 25,000 words, which is a great deal longer than I expected. Originally this was a 1500 word one-shot, and we haven't even gotten to that part yet. But this story won't let me go, and I don't think I've completely bored everyone yet, so I'll keep it coming...

* * *

"...and then I got so angry, I sorta blacked out. I mean, I was there, but I wasn't really paying attention to anything."

"Has this happened before?" John asked. Rick leaned back in his chair, looked over at John. They had been meeting for weeks, and Rick was finally starting to feel comfortable around the man. He was more used to more dramatic, expressive people. His mother's flourishes, his daughter's straightforwardness. The playfulness of the Becketts. Even Meredith's cloud of ever changing personalities.

But the more he visited John, the more he found it was useful, this calm reserve, as a counterpoint to the rest of his life.

Rick shook his head. "No, I don't really have much to get mad at, John. My life is, quite frankly, not hard. I had no idea I was such an angry guy."

"I'd hesitate from using that term. You felt angry, you feel angry. Anger is just something you feel, like being cold or hungry. It's not what you are."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, when you are cold, you don't blame yourself. You just do something about it. When you are angry, it's because you are in a situation that causes anger."

"You're saying I need to remove myself from the situation, but that's not really possible, Doc."

"But you can put on a coat."

Rick stood up, walked around the room. John stayed quiet, just watching him.

"Okay, I'm doing what I can about the divorce. I can't do anything more about the press, though Jo has gotten that to quiet down quite a bit. That just leaves..."

He stopped.

"That leaves custody, and Kate."

"Good... but more specific now, Rick."

"Well, if the courts have to decide custody, the stories are going to kill me. Even if I got the press to go after Meredith too, I'd still be in danger. The best we would be is even, which means she's ahead."

"So, what can we do to get warm?"

"I've got a plan. It's taking time, but if it works then we won't go to court."

"And what is that plan?"

"Meredith doesn't want custody. She wants something else. I'm going to give it to her."

"And is there more you could do to that end?"

"Maybe. A plan B, I guess, just in case. But I haven't thought of one yet."

"Sounds like good homework. And the second part, Kate?"

"Kate. Well, if Kate sees these articles...well, she HAS seen the articles, but if she starts to think that's really who I am... it's just another reason for her to say I'm not worth it, isn't it?"

John tapped his pen against his notepad. "Rick, this has come up a couple of times now. What indication has Kate given you that she doesn't think you are worth it?"

Rick settled back into his chair. "None, I guess. She called when she saw the papers, said they didn't bother her, other than she found it unfair that Meredith is fighting dirty."

"Is it rational, then, to assume that she will change her mind, when she's given you no indication that she will?"

"Kyra didn't give me any indication either."

"Rick, ultimately, this isn't about what Kate thinks, or what Kyra thinks, or what anyone else thinks either. This is about what you think of yourself. You may care for these women, but that does not mean you have to place their opinion of you above your own. That's not fair to them, and it's not fair to you. Absent what has happened with the women in your life, do you like who you are?"

"Yes."

"Then why does that have change, based off what you think Kyra or Kate or Meredith or anyone else thinks of you?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. But that doesn't mean I can help it."

"Well, let's flip it around. Before Kyra left, what did you think of her? Why were you attracted to her?"

"She was beautiful. Funny. Smart. I liked being around her."

"And after she left, did those things change?"

"I can't say I wanted to be around her much after that, but ..no, I guess not. Not ...she was still all of those things."

"And did you change? When she left, did that make you into someone else?"

"No. Look, John, I get where you are going with this, but..."

"Good. No buts," John said, interrupting. "Rick, don't worry. It's a process. You're not magically going to feel better because of something I say or you say in these sessions, or even because of something that happens outside of them. It comes from letting yourself think something, until one day you don't think about it anymore because you believe it. Rick, the only person who gets to decide what you are worth is you. If you like yourself now, that should continue to be true regardless of how things end up with Kate or Meredith or anyone else. It should only change if you do something that causes you to dislike yourself. That's your second piece of homework, remembering that you are the one who chooses."

"This better be worth it, 'cause Doc, I have always hated homework."

* * *

Kate dropped her mother's coffee onto her desk, caught the look on her mother's face.

"What is it, Mom?"

"Did you see Rick on your way in here?"

"No, was he here? We must have crossed in the elevators."

"Are you two still on this go slow plan?"

"I don't know what we are, but... why?"

"He... it was a tough day, that's all I can say. He could probably use some comfort, if you're willing."

She was willing. "I'm going to ..." she said, gesturing back towards the elevators.

"Go. Catch him. He just left."

Kate put down her coffee. She didn't want to try and run with it. She managed a half-wave to her mother as she bolted out the door.

She found him a block from the building, walking stoop shouldered towards his loft. She grabbed his arm, turned him towards her. It took several seconds before recognition crossed his face.

"Kate, were we supposed to meet up?"

"No. Mom said you had had a rough day. Thought maybe you'd need someone to talk to. Do you have to get home?"

"I called Ellen ... Alexis is fine for a few more hours, I guess. I didn't want to head straight home, mope in front of her."

She slid her hand down his arm, took his hand in hers. "Let's walk this way," she said, pulling him in the opposite direction before he could object.

They walked quietly for two blocks before she spoke again.

"So, what happened?"

"Do you really want to talk about this?"

"I'm guessing you need to."

He huffed. "It's been three months, and our mediator... she recommended that we should probably go to court, that the sessions aren't going anywhere."

She bit her tongue, wanting to speak, but knowing he had to lead at his own pace.

"The problem is, this goes in front of a judge and there is almost no chance I get custody. I'll get split custody, but ... that still means a lot of time to abandon Alexis in department stores or leave her at home alone while Meredith runs to an audition. I want more for Alexis than that, and it won't matter."

Kate didn't know what to say, couldn't speak. She brought her arm around his body, tried to give him a one armed hug while they kept walking. She'd only met Alexis a few times, knowing that it wasn't fair to get too involved in the girl's life when her relationship with her father was still up in the air. But she knew Alexis enough to feel her own fierce sense of protectiveness well up at the thought of the little redhead being in any danger.

"You know," she said, trying to put as much of a joking inflection into her voice as she could muster, "if it does come to that, with your money and my police background... I'm sure we could abduct ... you know, that's not funny, not even as a joke. I'm sorry, Rick... I don't know what to say."

He chuckled weakly. "It's okay, Kate. Would it be bad to say the thought crossed my mind? That I even looked at non-extradition countries on the web? Is that something I shouldn't tell a cop?"

"Probably. But I get it. It won't come to that, okay?"

"How do you know?"

She shrugged. "You've got three Beckett's on your side. That's got to count for something."

He laughed for real. "Oh, man, I can just see your Mom scolding some judge..."

"Mom was never much of a scolder. She was more of the 'I'm quietly disappointed in you' type of Mom."

"Yeah, I can see that..." he said, but was distracted by his phone ringing. He looked at her for permission, and she stopped, nodded to him.

"Rick," he said, answering the phone.

She tried to step back and give him privacy, but he grabbed her hand, kept her close.

"It's done? How much? Yeah," he said, while she tried to follow the conversation from his responses. "That's... I said whatever it cost, Tom. When will? Next week, you sure? Don't worry about it, you have no idea how good your timing is. Yeah, I owe you a drink, or you owe me. You too man, thanks."

Rick disconnected his call and stared at his phone for a minute. When he looked back up at her, everything about him had changed. She smiled at the happiness radiating off of him.

"Good call?"

He stepped towards her, picking her up in a bear hug.

"Not going to trial."

She hugged him back. "Great. But that wasn't Mom, was it? What happened?"

"Will explain later, don't want to completely jinx it. Now come on, you were going to cheer me up?"

"You don't look like you need it anymore."

He pouted. "Ah, come on. I still wanna see what you had planned."

She giggled. She loved when he was an overgrown boy, so different from all the men she'd wasted time with in the past. Boys in men's clothes. Men with no sense of joy. Men who wanted to beat the world into submission, rather than submit to its wonders. Men who weren't Rick.

"Well then, come on..." she said.

They jogged along 40th, her pulling him by the hand, until they turned at Fifth Avenue, and stopped in front of the iconic lions.

They stood staring for a minute, like it was their first time.

"Kate, you know, I've been to the library before..."

"Just trust me, Rick," she said, taking his hand again and pulling him up the stairs.

She pulled him quickly through the Rose Main, both of them laughing, drawing a few angry and inquisitive looks from readers there, until they were at the back of the room. From there, she led them down one of the side halls. She counted down the rooms until she found the one she wanted. Luckily it was empty.

She opened the door for him, letting him go first. He looked around the study room, with its well-worn table and cream colored walls. It had the smell pulped earth, glue, and pencil lead that always pulled her off the street into used bookstores.

"Um, why did you want to show me this room?" he asked. He liked being alone with her, but couldn't see anything special about the room.  
"Right here, in 1939, cops caught Polly Adler and Milton Berle in this study room. According to the records, she was on the table and he was ... um, not doing his stand-up routine, if you know what I mean."

"Oh wow, really? Right here?" He reached out, brought his hand to touch the table, pulled back at the last second. He held his hand there, hovering over the shellacked pine.

"There are pictures, supposedly, buried in records storage at 1 PP."

"And they never leaked... ah, I was born in the wrong era..."

"Okay, well, next stop," she said, before he could roll back into the funk she'd found him in. She grabbed his hand again, pulled him along. He let her lead.

The didn't stop until they had gone down the stairs into the basement. She dragged him past the children's area, right around the entrance into a nondescript corner.

"Guess where we are, Rick."

"In a hallway."

"Come on, Writer Man, you can do better than that."

"An old hallway? Oh, no, lemme guess... some other seminal but lost moment in New York's history?"

"Sort of, sure," she said and laughed. "This is where I had my first kiss."

"It was? Wow."

"I was twelve. It took him weeks to build up the nerve. I dragged him here so we'd be alone."

"Wait, Kate... are you giving me a tour of the library's sexual history?"

"I think sexual is seriously overstating what Billy and I did in this hallway, but..." she said, shrugging. She stepped closer to him, started to invade his personal space. She leaned up, trying to bring herself closer to his eye line.

"Actually, if we're doing show and tell," he said, "I want you to see some things too."

She leaned forward, rested her head on his shoulder. It wasn't quite what she'd hoped for, but it was something.

"Show me then."

He took her back to the second floor, this time to the small set of study cubes that overlooked the gardens.

"So, I wrote my first book at The Old Haunt..."

"The one near my place?" she interrupted. "The one I tried to take you to on our date?"

"The one and the same."

"How could you not tell me that?"

"Oh, it gets worse. My picture is on one of the walls. You've probably sat under it two dozen times and never known."

"Dammit," she said, whacking him in the arm. She wanted to leave, right then and drag him back to the bar. She wanted to sit too close to him in a booth with his picture hanging over their heads and tease him into telling her stories.

"Anyway... so that's where I wrote a decent portion of my first several books, but eventually decided that if I kept it up, I'd have a writing career, but no liver. So I started coming here instead."

"Here?" she asked, pointing at the table they were standing in front of.

"Well, slightly different places each time. But yeah, right here is where I wrote my first sentences about Derrick Storm. Right over there is where I came up with Clara Strike. Now, if you were a fan, you'd be suitably impressed..." he trailed off when she hit him in the arm again. He wagged his eyebrow at her.

She rubbed her hand over the table, absently hoping she could feel the words radiating out of the wood, into her fingers. She refrained from mentioning how much of a fan she'd become, how she had read all eighteen of his books in the few short months she'd known him. She chose not to mention how many times she'd gone into the precinct half dead because she'd lost too many hours convincing herself 'just one more chapter.'

"Wait," she said, trying to recover herself. "This is my tour..."

They spent the next two hours wandering the library and the grounds, sharing stories of geeky childhoods spent nose in book. They ate snacks, sitting on the stairs watching tourists take pictures of the lions. They played in the fiction stacks, finding all of the books they'd both read, they both wanted the other to read, the ones neither had read that they could start together. They lost themselves in a thousand different worlds that shared only each other.

They'd done it to cheer him up, but she was the one who felt like joy was leaking out of her by the end of it.

When they got to the head of the C's she stopped him.

"One other place we need to stop."

He looked up, saw they were at the CA's. "Oh, come on, Kate. That's too cliché, even for me, looking up my own books."

She turned him around, so that his back was against the shelves. There was a good chance he was leaning against copies of his own books, but she didn't try to find out.

"No, Rick, not that. I just wanted to show you this place, because this is where I made out with a famous mystery novelist."

"And who is ...oh," he said as she stepped towards him. She loved how his eyes grew dark and his face flushed at her proximity. She brought her hand up to his cheek, let her fingers curl around the nape of his neck. She leaned infinitely close, dared him to stop her. He didn't.

She removed the last inch between them.

They'd kissed twice before, both sweet and tentative. She'd expected this time to be similar, so she was surprised when he didn't hold back. His arm wrapped low around her back, and he pulled her up closer to him, so that she was on her toes. His tongue tipped her mouth open, and she was gone, lost to sensation, taste and touch bleeding across her, until there was nothing and everything but them

She didn't come back to Earth until she felt a hard tapping on her shoulder. She broke free of the kiss, but not his arms. She turned to find a guy about her age with scraggly long hair and silly round glasses glaring at them.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the library," he said. He was aiming for stern, she could tell, but either her own giddiness or the librarian's own 'Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal' t-shirt were ruining the mood. She just giggled.

"Of course," Rick said. He let her go, but kept his arm wrapped around her waist, and led her towards the exit. She tucked into him, let herself be led.

The idiot librarian followed them all the way out to the front door.

* * *

**A/N: **Aw shucks, I just got notice that another 100 days of summer was just posted. Go read that, it's better than this. Of course, I should have put this note at the TOP of the chapter, but didn't :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own them. Sort of glad of that, since that way they can still surprise me.

**A/N: **Sorry for the delays. No time to write, no time to read, no time to edit, and my characters went and did something I didn't expect, meaning heavy rewrites. Oh well...

* * *

Rick sat in his normal spot in the conference room for the fifteenth time. Fifteen rounds of mediation, mostly acrimonious, always tiring. It drew the obvious comparisons to a boxing match, but he let them disappear unexamined. Today it would be over, if he was right, and he'd rather concentrate on that.

It had to be today. If it wasn't, he was out of ideas.

Rick sat back in his chair, trying to hide his smile and his hope behind his hand. Tom had called him while he was on his incredible library date with Kate, and then again yesterday to confirm the final details. Now Rick just had to do his part. He looked across the table at his soon to be ex-wife, knew she was anxious by the way her thumb played with the nail of her index finger. It had always been her tell.

He listened as Johanna laid out their latest offer.

"Full custody to Mr. Castle. Visitation with supervision for Mrs. Castle. She gets the agreed upon one time payment, the agreed upon alimony, the house in California, and 50% of future royalties on the Storm properties."

"We've discussed this. You know supervision is unacceptable," Barrows replied immediately.

"If you want to think about it, Meredith, you can," Rick said. "We could meet again in two or three weeks. Or we could let it go to court as you suggested." He turned. "They'd be able to hear us in, what, four or five months?" he asked Johanna.

"If we pushed, five. Normally six or seven, I'd think," Johanna said. Her poker face was better than his.

He watched as Meredith blanched. She leaned over, whispered to her lawyer.

Barrows stood up straight. Rick could tell he'd been surprised.

"In exchange for accepting supervised visitation," Barrows said, "Mrs. Castle would also like the cabin in Vail and 65% of future Storm works."

Johanna looked over at Rick, who nodded.

"Done," she said.

"Good," Barrows said, looking, if not pleased, at least at peace. "I'll have the paperwork drawn up by Friday, have it messengered over. We should be able to file by early next week if everything meets your approval. Mr. Castle, Ms. Beckett, good day," he said, reaching out his hand. Rick and Johanna shook it in turn.

"I'll show you out, Turner," Johanna said. When the lawyers and the mediator had left, Rick turned back to Meredith.

"I'm moving out to California, Rick. Could I come by before I leave, say goodbye to Alexis at least?"

He knew that she was leaving. He'd offered the movie rights to the Storm books to his producer friend Tom Reston for a third of what they were worth in exchange for getting Meredith a guaranteed roll on a TV show. She'd gotten the call from the showrunner yesterday. The runner had hinted that she had to be there by the end of the week, or they might have to recast the part. It was just like Johanna had said. All he had to do was find what she really wanted and give it to her. Being on TV would make her far more famous than being the wife of a New York mystery writer.

"Of course, Meredith. We're around tonight."

"Rick, really, was it so bad?"

He smiled at Meredith. Now that it was over, and Alexis was safe, he found his anger dissipating. What, ultimately, was the point of getting mad at someone who would never react to it? Would never understand it? Would never even recognize it?

So he let it go. It felt almost painful in its absence. "No, Mere... it wasn't. It just wasn't right. You wanted one life, and I wanted another. And now, maybe, we can both get what we want."

"I did love you, you know."

"I know. I loved you too."

"But you love her more."

Rick startled, thinking at first that she was talking about Kate. But no, she was talking about Alexis. Had that really been how Meredith had thought about it?

"Yeah, ever since she was that tiny little thing they handed me in the hospital, she was it for me."

"I love her too. I know that the whole mother thing isn't for me. I'm just not wired that way, I guess. But I do love her."

"I know. So does she. I hope LA is good to you."

"It will be."

She hugged him then and walked out of his life.

He wanted a scotch. He wanted to go hug his little girl. He wanted to try to make Kate laugh. He wanted to feel whole again.

He wanted.

* * *

That night, after Meredith left and Alexis fell asleep, he ended up settling on a glass of Bruichladdich and calling Kate.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting.

"So, I was wondering, are you free Saturday night?" he asked. He wanted to tell her the news in person.

"Saturday night?"

"You know, the traditional night for drinking, dancing, wining, dining? I have this thing I got invited to, should be fun. You wear a pretty dress and I agonize over what type of flowers to bring you..."

She laughed, "I'm not a flowers kind of girl."

"Okay, what kind of ammo then. Is that a yes?"

"I'd ... I'd love to Rick, but I can't. Work."

"Work work, or just not interested work?" The question was out before he could censor himself. Maybe he wasn't all the way there yet.

"Work work. I could prove it, come over tonight."

"I'd really like that, which is why ... please don't. I can't handle it, tonight. Just talk to me, here. That's enough for now."

"Can I at least picture you naked?"

He laughed, long and full. Something good had changed between them, since the day in the library. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't. I'm certainly picturing you that way."

"So what do two naked people talk about, in the middle of the night?"

"Murder," he said, changing the subject. He had to take the edge off of it all, before his need would build until his worries would slice him in half.

"Really, Rick?"

"I'm going to kill Derrick Storm. At the end of this book. This will be the last one."

"What? Why?"

"Officially? Because I've run out of things for him to do. Want him to go off in a blaze, like Sherlock off Reichenbach Falls."

"Doyle brought Sherlock back, eventually."

"Not me. Meredith is going to get most of him," he said, stopping himself before he said more. "I don't think I can write him anymore, knowing her fingers are around his neck."

"A new start, then."

"Yeah. It's okay. I have an idea for a new protagonist anyway. A hot vice cop in four inch heels."

She laughed. "No backstory. People want their heroes with troubled pasts, a dead albatross. It's no fun if she grows up with two great parents, goes to a good school, does well at the Academy ... meets a good guy who makes her happy."

"There's the motorcycle. The hot tattoo which, given that you're naked, I should finally be able to see. There's the trip to Tijuana..."

"Mom told you that one. Ugh."

"As it was happening. Thought you were out of your wild child phase by then?"

"One last hurrah before college was over, Rick. Still, pretty thin overall. At least make her a homicide detective."

"Are you telling me something, Kate?"

"Sort of. A slot opened up. I've applied, but I think it will to a guy from gangs, ex-military, with more time in rank than me. But, I made the first cut. That's something, considering..."

"Kate, you're always extraordinary. People notice. I'm amazed it surprises you."

"Rick, you can't say stuff like that if you don't want me to come over."

"Sorry, too much for tonight. Hey," he said, "I have a name for her too."

"Do I really want to know? I mean, after Storm and Strike and Chance ... you know I enjoy your books, but your names suck."

"Damn, and I was going to go with Heat. Nicole Heat... ooohh... no, Nikki Heat."

"Maybe it's best I'm not there. I don't think I could hold back the urge to hit you in the head."

He laughed. They talked for a few more minutes, then he went to bed. That night, he dreamt of Kate, wearing nothing but her heels, carrying her gun. It would be a great cover of a book.

If she ever let him write it.

* * *

Kate pulled at the seam of her dress, trying to get a little room to breathe. The dress was beautiful, an Alexander McQueen, though a year out of date. Everything about her outfit was just a bit off - the jewelry just a tad too costume, the heels just a little too high, the dress fit just a bit too tight through the ribs. No one would notice, unless they were extremely good at details. But of course, she was trolling for exactly that someone.

She looked around the ballroom at the crowd. Beside her, her date did the same.

She was starting to hate undercover work. She was staring to hate all of her job. Losing out on homicide yesterday had been expected, but her disappointment had surprised her.

She shook her head. It wasn't the time for that. She'd spotted the woman she was looking for. She whispered to her date, and then went off to the bar.

The woman, Tanya Helman, was waiting for her drink, so Kate walked up next to her, flagged the bartender. Kate ordered a Sapphire Martini.

She let Tanya look her up and down a few times while she waited for her drink.

"I like the shoes, " Tanya said, "Jimmy Choo's?"

Kate smiled. Her outfit had been very carefully tailored to make it look like she was a woman who was trying to break into high society, but didn't have the money to pull it off.

Kate leaned in towards the woman. "Keep a secret? They're knockoffs."

Tanya smiled. "They're good. I've seen you at a few of these things before, haven't I?"

"Probably. Kate Markinson," Kate said.

"Tanya," she said. Neither woman extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you." Of course, Kate already knew everything she needed to know about Tanya Helman, how she worked as a recruiter for the Emperor's Club, a new high end escort service that was rumored to have some very important clients. Vice had been investigating them for weeks, ever since they'd pulled Roger Barnham, a hot shot hedge fund manager, in on a bust two months ago. He'd been willing to flip on the Club in exchange for a plea bargain and his name kept out of the papers. Five times since then, Roger had brought Kate along as his date to several similar functions, so that Kate could catch the eye of one of the recruiters. Now, finally, Kate had made contact.

"You know, I've been watching you," Tanya said. "Can I be blunt?"

"Um, do you have to?"

"Just let me guess. I've seen you at these things with Roger, and he isn't getting you here simply on his charming company, is he?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you are suggesting."

"Hey, it's hard to make it in Manhattan. But, some of us always have ... nicer options..."

"Us?"

"Beautiful, well-educated... nothing wrong with earning a few extra dollars by keeping a powerful man company..."

"I don't think I like what you are suggesting," Kate said, but she didn't turn to leave.

"Maybe I'm wrong," Tanya said, "but... I rarely am. Look, it's hard going it alone. Guys like Roger, they get bored. Better to have a community to lean on."

"And you might know such a ... community."

"I could," Tanya said, reaching into her clutch. She slid Kate a business card. Kate looked at it - it contained no identifying information, just a single letter-pressed email address on the heavy cardstock. She slid it into her own bag quickly.

"Trust me, our way is safer. Anonymous, protected. Could be in some real Jimmy Choo's for life, just doing what you are doing, for us."

Kate nodded, didn't say anything. Tanya gave her a coy smile, walked off. Kate had to give the woman credit - a strong sell while still never mentioning anything incriminating. It wasn't much, but it was an in.

Kate picked up her drink, turned away from the bar. She had several more hours at this party, even though her work was now done. She really wanted to duck out early, call up Rick and go find him. He'd invited her to some event, tonight, and she'd had to duck out so that she could play pretend prostitute for fifteen minutes. What a waste.

She saw something out of the corner of her eye and almost choked on her drink.

Across the room stood Rick, dressed beautifully in what had to be another of his custom made suits - in this case a shall tuxedo. He was talking to the Mayor and his wife, but it was the blond next to him that gave Kate pause. She was beautiful and graceful and standing far too close to Rick to be anything but his date.

Kate watched as Rick joked with the Mayor, and the blond kept touching him. A touch to the arm as she laughed, a lean against his shoulder as she made a comment.

Kate wanted to go over, slap the color right out of the woman's obviously dyed hair, but she couldn't move. She wasn't used to the strange wave of jealously that was hitting her. She took three strong steps towards the group before remembering that she was undercover, that there was nothing she could do, in this setting, tonight. She couldn't even be seen by Rick, lest he inadvertently say something before she had a chance to explain. She had no choice but to leave before he spotted her.

She moved briskly through the entrance, out into the lobby of the hotel, when someone grabbed her arm, started to drag her off near the coatroom. She turned, went to twist her arm free, but the man holding her was trained. As she twisted, he let her go, grabbed her wrist instead, turned it sharply so that she'd either have to move in the direction he wanted, or break her wrist.

"Let go of me," she said.

He stopped, twisted and threw her into the coat room. Her shoes weren't made for fast footwork and she nearly lost her balance. She stumbled into the coats, recovered, turned to face him.

"What the hell do you think..."

"Be quiet," he said, cutting her off. "You have no idea how much trouble you are in, Ms. Markinson. I suggest you do as I say."

"And why would I do that?"

He reached into his jacket, and Kate tensed up. She wished she'd been able to carry her gun with her. But the man didn't pull out a gun, just a wallet. He opened it to show her an FBI ID.

"We have plenty of evidence against you, Ms. Markinson. We've seen the payments into your account from Mr. Barnham. We know what you do, after parties like this."

She can't decide whether to be indignant that the FBI had somehow gotten a warrant to investigate her, or impressed that her jackass of a Lieutenant had somehow put together a cover that had fooled both Emperor and the FBI. But before she could decide, they were interrupted.

"Lewis, let her go."

"Sir?" the Agent asked, turning towards the new occupants. Kate looked over his shoulder, saw a tall older man, obviously the Agent's boss, standing there with Lt. Guerstein. "I saw her ..."

"Shut it," the older man said, and Agent Lewis stopped in mid-sentence. The older man turned to her Lieutenant. "Take your officer, get out of here," he said.

"Its detective, actually," she said, and enjoyed it as Agent Lewis blanched. Guerstein just shook his head in a 'not here' gesture. She shut up, followed the Lieutenant out of the coat room.

When they got to the street, Guerstein pulled her aside.

"Sorry, Beckett. Special Agent with a Stick up his Ass only told me ten minutes ago. I had no idea they were going to jump in."

"Told you what? What the hell does that mean?"

Guerstein laughed. "I forget how young you are sometimes, kid." She bristled. She hated when the Lieutenant was patronizing, which was often. She usually just bypassed him for the Captain. "The FBI is here. They have some kind of case. Apparently they're hunting bigger fish, think they can get some important people. So we're left with a fart in the wind and an early night. Our involvement is now officially jack."

"And that's it? What kind of crap is that?"

"The dick swinging kind. Look, kid, don't let it bother you. You did good work. When Jackass and Baby Jackass come in tomorrow, I'll let you debrief. You earned it."

"If they were smart, they'd let us liaise. I got us an in tonight."

"And if a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass when it jumped. Look, you've been on a good run since you got here, but you need to know. They all end. We don't win 'em all. Maybe, if we're lucky, we win most. Better to learn that now."

Guerstein gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked off to his car. She watched him go. She wanted to go home, take a long shower, give Rick a call.

But of course she couldn't.

* * *

**A/N:** So sorry to leave it here, especially since it will be a week before I can write more... please don't throw heavy things at me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Castle, it would feature more Muppets. And they would break into song. The Muppets, that is...

**A/N:** I really don't have time to be writing. This is obviously an addiction.

* * *

Rick stood in the coffeeshop he thought of as 'theirs.' He hadn't seen Kate in more than two weeks, not since before he tried to invite her to the Mayor's After School Program Fundraiser. He'd been so excited to tell her about the divorce settlement and to see her in a sleek evening dress charming the Mayor and the rest of the city's glitterati while she was on his arm.

But she'd had to work.

That, in and of itself, was fine. His job largely involved getting paid stupid amounts of money for something he found fun, followed by the occasional need to go out, dress well, drink good alcohol, and rub elbows with important people. Her job involved late nights, eating bad takeout from the front seat of her car, getting in dangerous situations, and actually doing something useful for the world. There was no way he'd ever complain that her job might trample on his.

Still, he wanted to show her off, maybe dance with her while she wore that pretty dress.

However, ever since their failed attempt, she'd been ... distant. After the first two days of her brushing him off whenever he called, he'd checked the papers, but hadn't found any pictures or mentions of him, so he doubted that was the cause. So he just chalked it up to work, since she'd often get busy, but after a week, he figured it couldn't be that either.

He was at a loss.

He'd come to Johanna's today to sign another round of papers that would then be sent to California, where Meredith had settled into her new life. Johanna could have faxed them to his loft, or messengered them over, but he'd happily volunteered to come over, hoping that he'd catch Kate during her regular coffee pitstop.

He sat at the table closest to Paul's espresso machine, watching the front door. He tried to nurse his drink, nervous enough already, not needing to exacerbate things with too much caffeine. But there was only so long he could sit there holding a cold cup before he'd look ridiculous, and that time was thirty minutes ago, so he got up, decided to get a second round.

He'd just finished asking Paul for something overly sugary when Kate walked in.

"Rick... I didn't know you were coming over to Mom's today."

"Just some papers to sign..." he said. He wanted to jump into a rendition of 'The Wicked Witch is Dead,' but stopped himself. Kate looked haggard.

"No meetings with Meredith then, that's good."

"Yeah. Do you have a minute, we could sit?"

"Rick... not today."

"Sure? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"So? I mean, I can't be the only person you spend time with."

"Um, no... but you're the person I want to spend time with."

She looked at him, softening somewhat, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. "It's just been a rough few weeks. I gotta get to Mom, but I'll... I'll call, okay?"

"Sure. If you need anything..."

"I know," she interrupted. She turned and left, no coffee ordered.

He watched her leave, wondering if this wasn't Kyra, all over again.

* * *

Kate fiddled with the Eggplant Parmesan on her plate, unable to bring herself to take a bite.

"Okay, Katie, I think it's time you tell us what's wrong," her father said.

She looked up at him, and then over at her mother. Both were wearing identical looks of concern. She hated when they ganged up on her, but tonight, maybe, she needed the push.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

Her mother made a scoffing noise, but it was her father who answered. "Honey, not that we don't love seeing you, but we don't ever expect you to take us up on our Sunday night dinner offers. You've been sitting there for thirty minutes moping like a teenaged girl."

Johanna gave her husband a look that Kate noticed. Her Dad sobered instantly. "Just, how can we help, Katie?" he asked again.

She speared her vegetable, but didn't bring it to her mouth. "Do you two ever regret being lawyers?"

"Is this coming from somewhere?" he asked.

Kate went to speak, but her mother answered first. "I don't, honey. I love being a lawyer."

"Really? I mean, it was one thing, when you two were ... I don't know, saving the innocent. But now?"

Both of her parents laughed. "Honey, oh, I really don't hope ... you don't have some vision of us being some sort of crusading angels, do you?" her mother asked.

"well... yeah?" Kate said, half in question.

Johanna took a deep breath. "Sure, sometimes I got to fight the good fight, save an innocent man or woman, or appeal a wrongful conviction, and yes, I loved those moments, but ... sometimes I defended some absolute scum. Dad did too," she said, nodding at her husband.

"Oh yeah. Like Giovanni Puccilia?" Jim asked. "Remember him?"

Johanna nodded. "But it was part of the job, and if you believed in the system..."

"Yeah, sure ..." Kate said, quickly. She'd heard her mother's pontifications on the system before. "But the good outweighed the bad, didn't it?"

Johanna reached out, took Kate's hand. "What happened, Katie?"

Kate put down her fork.

"We'd been building a pretty decent case against a new high end escort service. This group ... they're just acting at a much higher level then anything we've seen before. Probably taking in millions. A few weeks ago, we finally caught a way in, but then the FBI storms in, shuts us down, takes the case away. And what's worse, my Captain and Lieutenant just let them. They acted like it was no big deal."

"Well, it's not like the FBI will just stick it in a drawer, is it?" Johanna asked.

"No," Kate said, dragging out the word. "But it's ... I've got street girls in the hospital who won't say anything because they still think their pimp is looking out for them. I've got girls who end up dead, and no one cares, since unless it's some sort of serial killer or glamor angle, who cares if a prostitute gets knifed in an alley, right? I'm a cop, and yet it always feels like ... like there are the guys, the other detectives, and then there's me, the girl they let play act. I finally pull a real case, and it gets dumped to the Feds, who will deal with it politically." She almost spit out the last word. "I guess it's just getting hard to hang it all on the victories. The defeats are feeling too big lately."

Neither of her parents spoke for a minute after she ran out of steam. Surprisingly, it was her father that spoke first.

"You know, honey, you asked if I liked being a lawyer. I guess you mean now that I just write contracts. And sure, I guess I can see how it doesn't seem all that amazing. I mean, so what if I write a good contract or a bad one, right? Only difference is maybe Rick or Mike makes a million and a half in advance, instead of two. But the thing is, Katie girl, for me, it's not about the outcomes. It's about the process. I like writing contracts, figuring out the language and the loopholes and the what mights. I like negotiating them, just like I liked researching for trial cases. That's enjoyable to me, no matter what. If your life is just about the victories, then eventually, the victories aren't enough anymore."

She looked over at her Dad. Of course her Dad, the recovered alcoholic, would think like that, but ... he had a point. Was she looking for victories because the day to day wasn't enough?

"Your father is right, honey. We all want to have successes, and it's fine to enjoy them when they come. But they can't be the end all be all of what you do and why, because then each one will have to be bigger or sooner or better than the last one, until even success feels like failure, and failure, even a small one, feels devastating. You've never had to face failure that much before I guess. It's the downside of being very good at every thing you've ever tried."

"Katie," her dad cut in. "You're twenty-five. When I was twenty-five, I still thought I'd be a pro-surfer or something, was still two years away from law school. Whether you decide this is just a bad turn and stay a cop, or decide to be something else, you've got time. You've got us. Just find the thing that gets you out of bed in the morning, because doing that thing feels better than sleeping, more fulfilling than anything else. Though, if you pick something we're you aren't going to get shot at, my poor old heart would certainly appreciate it."

She looked back and forth between her parents, feeling how much she loved them both. Who would she be, if she didn't have these two? It was almost too much. She had to pull it back in, contain it.

"Wow, it's a good thing you two have me," she said, smiling for the first time that night. She dropped a bite of eggplant in her mouth, smiled around her chewing. "Otherwise all this advice would be wasted."

Her dad chuckled, and dug back into his food. Her mother rolled her eyes.

* * *

Kate curled on the couch under her blanket. After dinner, her mother had talked her into staying the night, enjoying a TV marathon together. Kate knew her mother suspected that she hadn't fully shaken her melancholy, but Johanna hadn't called her on it. Her mother grabbed the remote as she walked by the TV, and handed Kate the communal bowl of kettle corn before tucking herself into the other side of the blanket. Johanna turned on the TV and scrolled to her store of Temptation Lane episodes. She picked an episode, then looked over at Kate for approval.

"Yeah, that one's fine," Kate said. Johanna started the show.

They watched for a few minutes, trading the snack bowl back and forth. Kate couldn't get into the very thin but convoluted plot for the episode. Instead she just let the words float over her.

"Katie. Katie. Kate."

"What, Mom?"

"I've been calling your name for five minutes. You aren't paying any attention, are you?"

"No, I guess not."

Johanna paused the show.

"This is about more than just work, isn't it?"

"It's everything, Mom."

"By everything, you mean Rick."

Kate flopped her head back against the top of the couch.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"What happened?" her mother asked, ignoring her.

"That night the FBI shut us down... the party I was at, Rick was there. Talking to the Mayor. He had a date."

"A date?"

"A date. Some ... blond woman."

"You met her?"

"I was undercover. It wasn't like I could go up, talk to them."

"Then how do you know it was a date?"

"You should have seen how she was hanging on him, Mom."

Johanna leaned forward on the couch, "Jim?" she yelled into the hall. A second later, her Dad showed up in the doorway.

"You summoned?"

"Rick's publisher or editor or whatever, the one you deal with on all his contracts... what's her name?"

"Gina Cowell. What about her?"

"What's she like, again?"

"I don't know. Nice enough when you get over the intensity. She's a bit of a hard driver, but she knows if Rick makes money, she makes money, so she's usually fair enough, in the end."

"Didn't you use to complain about the touching?"

"No, you did. You met her at his last book party. He brought her as a sort of date. You didn't like her, thought she had no sense of personal space."

"I remember now, thanks, honey. That was going to drive me nuts all night."

"Sure," Jim said, shaking his head, and went back to whatever he was doing.

"Well-played, Mom," Kate said after her dad left. "Doesn't mean anything though."

"Why not?"

"You've seen the papers..."

"That isn't the least bit fair, honey. You want to get mad at him for something he's done, that's fine. But you know perfectly well that the papers..."

"Yeah, you're right," Kate said quickly. "That's not... I mean I was in some of those pictures too, I get it. But it's still hard, not to think about them when there's ..." Kate trailed off.

"Well, then, what did he say about it?"

"Nothing."

"The man's a chronic babbler, and he didn't say a thing? I have trouble believing ... oh ... you've been avoiding him, haven't you?"

Kate shrugged. "Do you have any idea how disconcerting it is that you know him better than I do?"

"I doubt that I know him better than you," Johanna said, "but I do know you. Dive in, slide out, right? You decided that you saw what you saw, and that's enough?"

"No."

"Kate."

"No, Mom. I just ... with work, and everything, I just ... I haven't given up, I just couldn't face it."

"Well, letting it fester isn't going to make it any better."

"I feel like we're in the fourteenth century, and you're trying to arrange my marriage."

"Well, he's the only one who has accepted your dowry."

Despite herself, Kate chuckled.

"I'm not arranging anything, other than the removal of your head from your behind, sweetheart. Look, if he's off dating his editor and didn't tell you, then I'll let you tar him and I'll put on the feathers myself. But if this is all just a big misunderstanding, then I get the right to name your first child."

"Mom, jump the gun much?"

"What? I'm not allowed to have faith in my friends and my children?"

Kate shook her head. How could her mother drive her so nuts and make her feel so much better, all at once?

"If I promise to call him tomorrow, can we just go back to watching the show?"

* * *

**A/N: **Ever write something and find yourself surprised? I love that... though Kate has gone and made this story much harder on me... silly Kate.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I own a bag of magic beans, and I have planted them in the backyard. If they grow into Castle, then I am golden. If they just grow into a stinky giant beenstalk, then Castle will probably still belong to AM.

**A/N:** I have no time this week, so of course I've posted three times. Makes complete sense...

* * *

Rick stood, staring out the window of his therapist's office, talking to the glass, rather than John.

"...and, so, getting her the part worked. She settled. She's off in California now, and, amazingly enough she actually remembers to call Alexis now, semi-regularly."

"So, Rick, now that it is over, how do you feel?" John asked.

Rick turned away from the window, and started to pace around his therapist's office. "Good. It's funny, in an odd way. Meredith and I are actually sort of getting along now. All it took was a three thousand mile barrier."

"And the anger?"

"Well, I'm still wrung out, but yeah, I can't say I want to break things anymore."

"And yet I find that you are pacing my office..."

Rick stopped himself in mid-stride, forced himself to take a seat in his regular chair.

"Better?" he asked his therapist.

"In my profession we call that avoidance."

Rick huffed. "I'm not angry, not avoiding. I got what I wanted."

"So then?"

Rick sighed. "Kate."

"Ah."

"Things were... actually, I thought things were really great. And then, all of a sudden, they weren't."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I asked her out, a real date, but she couldn't make it. She still... I mean, even though she couldn't make it, she didn't... we still flirted, laughed, had fun. But that's the last time I've talked to her. She just started avoiding me."

"And she gave you no reason as to why?"

"No. I can't ..."

"You haven't confronted her about it, have you?"

"Well, no. I mean, what's the point?"

"Let me postulate a theory, Rick, and you can tell me how accurate I am. You think she's seen something in you that she doesn't like. You think she's grown tired of you. You refuse to confront her because you think that she's right."

"How can I think she's right? I don't even know what she thinks."

John said nothing, just let Rick listen to himself.

"Yeah, okay," Rick said, "I hear myself. But sometimes, it's just easier not knowing."

"Like it was with Kyra?"

Rick looked away. "Fair enough, Doc."

"So what's our homework then?"

"Talk to Kate."

"See? You're getting good at this. Soon you won't even need me."

* * *

Despite her promise to her mother, in the end, she didn't call Rick. She didn't want to avoid him, not exactly, but the chance there was a truth there that she didn't want to hear kept her away. Ignorance couldn't banish the fear, but could keep it under control.

She decided to visit her mother on Thursday that week. Things had been dead after they lost the Emperor case, and the Captain didn't seem to have any urgency to give her something new to work on. She found herself languishing, instead, on penny-ante stuff and disappearing out the door at minutes after five. For the first time in her life, she felt unmotivated, and it was killing her.

So she had a free Thursday, for once, and more importantly, Rick always came by on Wednesdays, so there was no chance she'd run into him. She hated that she was hiding, but she hadn't been able to formulate a plan.

The first plan, the go-slow plan, had been predicated on not falling in love with him. So her first plan hadn't worked so well.

Now that she was in love, or, at least now that she recognized it, it was making her hesitant in a way that she'd never experienced before. She had never felt this lost with Mike or with Matt, and she'd been with both of them far longer. Hell, she wasn't even dating Rick... not in any real way. But she was still gone.

She took the elevator, lost in her thoughts, and walked into her parents' office on autopilot.

Her mother bustled past the reception desk as Kate walked by, and they nearly passed each other without awareness.

"Kate? I didn't know you were coming by today."

"I missed yesterday, so ... " Kate said, shrugging.

"I'm ... things have gotten very busy here but... actually, are you free for awhile? If I needed a favor?"

"Yeah, I'm done for the night. What do you need, Mom?"

"I'm watching Alexis for Rick. She's in my office. I promised to take her ice skating, but there's no way ... She's handling it well, but if you could take her?"

Kate couldn't figure out how her mother had set this up. Maybe she was just taking advantage of the situation. Or maybe she was just scrambling. Whatever the cause, Kate couldn't say no. She could brush off her mother, but the idea of letting Alexis down hurt in a way Kate couldn't yet explain.

Kate had been stupid. She'd gotten involved not just with Rick, but Alexis too. Why had she allowed that? Why had Rick allowed that?

Unable to speak, she just nodded.

"Oh, thank you, honey. We were going to go over to that place in Chelsea. The one I always took you to."

* * *

Alexis, it turned out, was a natural skater.

"Okay," Kate said, "Now try this one." Kate curled clockwise around the little redhead, did a quick double toe loop. She caught a bit of an edge coming out, but kept her balance. It had been years since she'd been on skates, but it had come back quickly enough. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it.

"That's easy, Kate," Alexis said with a giggle, and then mimicked Kate's loop. They'd been trading off moves and questions for thirty minutes in the lightly occupied rink.

"Okay, favorite Disney movie?" Kate asked as Alexis finished her twirl.

"Oh, we don't watch Disney movies."

That surprised Kate. Rick seemed like a Disney guy if there ever was one.

"Really?"

"Dad says they are dumb. Disney princesses always need saving. Princesses should save themselves, they don't need silly boys for that."

Kate's heart did another little flop, the type she'd gotten frequently since meeting Rick, but this was the first one he'd managed to cause without even being around. He kept claiming that Alexis raised herself, that he just handled taxis and finances, but that was obviously not true. Kate would never have pictured fatherhood as a turn on, before now.

Alexis stopped skating and waved towards the entrance. Kate turned and followed Alexis' eyes, saw Rick edging past the gate to step out onto the ice.

Rick was not a graceful skater. He limped a few feet, hugging the wall. Despite her worries, seeing him made her smile. Before she was even thinking about it, she found herself skating over to him.

"Hey, stranger," he said as she skated up.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said, and immediately regretted it as a flash of pain quickly played over his face.

"I talked to your mom, was surprised when she told me you two were here."

"Come on, we need to get you away from that wall," she said to him, holding out her hand.

"I'm not sure that's the best idea, Kate. Have you seen this stuff we're on? It's like ice," he said, and she tried not to roll her eyes or smile.

"Just ... take my hand. I'll help you."

He looked at his feet before nodding, reaching out his hand to take hers. She skated backwards, moving at a diagonal from the wall, so that he was forced to take his other hand off the wall. The moment it was free, he reached out, tried to grab at her with both hands. She took both of his hands in hers.

"I've missed you," he said, after they'd skated for a minute.

"I'm sure I'm not your..." she said, but stopped herself.

"That's the second time you've said that. What makes you think I'm off with someone ... " He couldn't seem to finish the question, but she knew anyway.

"I saw you, at the Mayor's thing two weeks ago."

"Well, yeah, I invited you, remember? Wait, you said you had to work?"

"I was there... I was undercover. I saw you with your date."

"I told you Kate, I invited you."

"So?"

"So, you were my date. Or you were supposed to be. When you said no, then I went alone."

"Rick... you don't have to lie. I saw you talking to the Mayor with her on your arm."

"Oh. Gina. You saw Gina."

"Yeah. Mom says you..."

Rick stumbled, and she had to stop to tug on him, keep them both upright.

"I did, occasionally. But nothing ever happened with ... Gina's my editor, it's not romantic. She accompanies me to some things like that. She likes the spotlight. But she was there that night on her own invite, Kate."

"She's pretty. She's obviously in to you."

"She's in to fame and money and power. And yes, I've flirted with her before, because sometimes I needed the pick-me-up. And maybe in another life..." he trailed off, took a deep breath, started over. "Gina doesn't ice skate or make me laugh or speak Russian. And I don't fall asleep thinking about her and Alexis doesn't ask me a dozen times a week if we can see her. She doesn't make me want to take chances or try harder. Kate," he said, taking another breath. "I'm not interested in a consolation prize."

Kate slowed, not concentrating on her skating anymore, and Rick stumbled again as she changed speeds. This time, she couldn't catch them, and he ended up falling onto his back and pulling her along, so that she landed sprawled over his chest, the breath going out of both of them. She tucked her face into his chest and he brought his arms around her.

"Look," he said, catching his breath. "If you think I've done something wrong... call me on it. Get mad at me or yell or do whatever you need to do. But if you just leave... I can't do anything. These last weeks, I've been..." he stopped talking, but she could feel the shrug in his shoulders under her cheek.

"I'm sorry. I won't... next time, I'll just throw something," she said, looking up at him.

"I'll be prepared. I screw up a lot. You might get quite a workout." He had a smile on his face at last, and she leaned up, gave him a quick kiss, as if she was trying to steal some of his smile for herself.

"Dad, why are you skating so badly?" Alexis asked, skating over. She looked down at the two of them.

Kate pushed off of Rick, got herself to a seated position on her knees. "What do you mean, Alexis?"

"Dad usually doesn't fall."

She looked over at him. "You know how to skate, don't you?"

He shrugged again. "I needed some way to make sure you couldn't skate off before we talked."

"So you preyed on my protective nature?"

"Can't fault my results, can you?"

"Hope you enjoyed that," she said, brushing non-existent lint off the thighs of her jeans. She stood up, "Because it will never happen again."

"Come on, Alexis," Kate said, taking Alexis's hand, "Silly boys can obviously rescue themselves." They skated off as Rick laughed behind them.

Kate and Alexis made it a half-lap around the rink before Rick swooped in behind them. With one arm, he managed to pick Alexis up and pull her into his chest. He grabbed Kate's waist with his other hand, and looped around her until they formed a triangle. He skated backwards deftly, hugging his daughter to the crook of his neck.

"You skate quite well it seems."

"I went to boarding school; the stupid torturous type where they want you to be well-rounded. I had to choose between either basketball or hockey, and, well, you don't want to see me trying to shoot hoops."

Alexis kissed him on the cheek, wiggled to get down. He put her back on the ice, and she sped off, uninterested in going at the adults' slower speed.

He, however, didn't let Kate go.

"I hope it's okay I had Alexis today. Mom was swamped."

"Yeah, she's been busy since..." A little worm of worry crept in as she saw something flicker across his face. "It's fine. I trust you with Alexis, absolutely."

She couldn't face the feeling that such a simple statement caused in her, so she pushed it down, held onto it for later. "So, it must have been important, if you are foisting your daughter off on your lawyer. Must be the most expensive babysitter ever..."

"You kidding? Jo would pay me to get to spend time with Alexis. But yeah, it was important. Actually, it's something I've wanted you to know. I've been seeing someone, a therapist. That's where I was tonight. He's helping me to be ... ready for more. Someday."

"I hope I'm there when that day comes."

"I hope you are too."

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this is short, but since I posted two times more this week than I really had time for...


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Please don't go believing I own any of this, 'cause I don't. Duh.

**A/N: **If you only have one or two days a week when you can write, make sure you keep access to a computer for those days... I never did learn how to upload the chapters I wrote in crayon...

* * *

"Hey kid, a word?"

Kate stopped in mid-stride, looked back at her Captain, who was leaning out of his door. She closed the report she was looking at and went into his office. He closed the door behind them before going back to his desk.

One of those kinds of meetings, then.

"So, Beckett, I was a bit surprised when I saw this come across my desk today," the Captain said, holding up a small sheaf of papers. Her transfer request.

She shrugged. "I heard Major Crimes had someone retiring."

"First Homicide last month, and now Major Crimes? You so desperate to get out of Vice?"

Kate said nothing.

He dropped the papers on his desk, sat back in his chair. "Look... I can't block a transfer request ... but it's going to be denied. I already talked to Foster."

"Sir?"

He ignored the implicit question in her voice. "Beckett... it doesn't look good, you throwing in transfer requests left and right, every chance you get. Especially when you're so new."

"I've been here years, sir, since right out of patrol."

"But as a Detective, you're barely out of diapers. Jumping around this fast, it gives you an air as a careerist or a loose cannon. Either way, word'll get 'round, no one will want to work with you."

"No one here wants to work with me now," she said, finally giving voice to the problem that had been nagging her for so long. She hadn't even realized, for herself, why she'd felt so restless these last few months. She needed a team.

"You and I both know that's not true. You're on half out the reports coming out of this division."

"Not as primary, or even secondary. They aren't working with me, they just like putting me in heels and throwing me out on a street corner every time things get a little dry... that's not investigating. Besides, if I'm on so many busts, why would Major Crimes reject me?"

"Same reason Montgomery did. Because I asked them to."

She felt gut punched. "Why?"

"You should be in Vice. We need you here."

"You mean you need my breasts."

She saw a flash of anger in his eyes, but he was a lifelong cop - he got it under control fast. "Two years, Beckett. You're here two years, then you can think of a transfer. I see you put in a request before then, and I'll put you on disciplinary review and then I really can block your transfers."

"I can talk to the COD."

"Talk to a man I play golf with once a week? About what? About how I, apparently stupidly, went to bat for your detective's badge in the first place? Nope, I got you that badge. Thought you might show some appreciation. But know, I can take it away, too."

So my career is a gift from you, she wanted to ask, but stopped herself. There was a nasty bit of quid pro quo buried in her Captain's words, but nothing she could attack directly. But she'd be damned if she had to live with it.

"No sir, you can't. Not if I quit."

She stood up, unclipped her badge and dropped it on his desk. She removed her sidearm, gave it a brief look, and placed it next to the badge. Then she turned and left.

* * *

She had a date. An honest to goodness, get dressed up and go out date.

So she was freaking out.

The more rational side of her suspected that she was freaking out about her date because it was easier than freaking out over throwing her job out the window. It had been a spur of the moment decision, a backlash to the notion that she was a mere accessory to the life she had thought she had been living. But, while she regretted not having a backup plan, she didn't regret the action itself. Sometime in the last six months, something had changed in her. She was at her best when she worked within a certain framework - a mentor like her mother, a partner like ... well, like Rick. And at her job, she had none of that. Maybe in another department, she might have a chance at it, but she was sure she didn't have the patience to find out.

But she didn't want to think about that until at least next week, so she was going to go ahead and freak out about her date instead. She felt completely justified in freaking out over a date, at least this one, since somewhere between dessert and good night she was going to admit she was in love with him. And then hope that good night became good morning.

So, yeah, a bit of pressure.

After spending most of the day going through her closet, she finally settled on two dresses she might wear for Saturday night. She had no idea what Rick had planned, nor did she really care. She was determined to knock his socks off, no matter what. Months of flirting, of ups and downs, the chaos of her life and his, it was time to move forward. And she'd move him, even if there was kicking and screaming.

She stared at the dresses for the longest time. It wasn't the biggest decision in the world, to chose between the two, but as the day grew closer and more and more things were resolved, the issues that were left took on stupid significance.

She needed out of her own head. She threw the two dresses into a garment bag. There were two people capable of getting her to relax when she started hyper-focusing, and Rick was currently not an option. That left her mother.

Downtown it was.

"Kate, this is a surprise," her mother said when Kate walked into the office. "Am I losing track, or have you dropped by a lot more, lately?"

"I've been by more," she said, stopping herself before she said more. She hadn't told her parents about her impulsive decision to quit, just yet. "But, I'm here now because I need your help. Rick and I have a date, and I seem to be unable to figure out what to wear."

"Honey, not that I don't like seeing you, but maybe you should start giving me a head's up. Things are so crazy around here lately, I don't want to have to brush you off when you show up."

Kate took her dresses off her shoulder, hung them on the back of her mother's door. "Crazy? Did you and Dad get some new clients?"

"Ever since the filing, every celebrity in town aiming for a divorce has come calling. I seem to be the new divorce lawyer du jour. I'm sure Turner Barrows is turning green," her mother said, while shuffling through a decent sized stack of message slips that had been left on her desk.

It took Kate a second to put the pieces together. The only celebrity case Kate knew about was Rick's.

"They want you because of Rick," she said.

"Everyone wants me to recreate what I did for him, and what can I tell them? 'Sorry, he did it all himself, I just happened to be there to fill out the paperwork, but I'd still like to work with you if you're interested?'"

Kate froze in the middle of the office. "So he's divorced."

Her mother looked up from her papers.

"You didn't know, did you?" she asked.

"No," Kate said, "he never told me."

"Well, if you two actually spoke to each other..."

"No, Mom," Kate said, cutting her mother off. "We talk just fine. He didn't tell me because he didn't want to tell me. He asked to put us on hold until his divorce was over and now that it is, he's just interested in keeping the status quo."

"Weren't you, not thirty seconds ago, begging me to help you pick out a dress for your big date with the man?"

Kate brushed that away with the flick of her wrist.

"Oh no, I've seen that look," her mother said. "It's your 'I'm going to go do something really stupid look.'"

"What about your big speech about having faith in me?"

"What about letting the man say his piece before you decide?"

"Oh, I'll let him talk..." she said, storming out of the office.

* * *

"You're divorced," she said as Rick opened his front door.

Rick stood stock still as Kate walked past him into the loft. He fumbled the door closed, nearly dropping his loose cufflink in the process. She crossed into the living room and stared at him. Dammit, she thought, why did he have to look so cute when he was disheveled? He stood there like a little boy before church, one cuff buttoned, wrestling futilely with the other one, tails untucked and utterly confused. It took a slight edge off the righteous anger she'd built up on the way over, but not enough to stop her.

"The court still has to process it, but, yes, we've settled," he said. "Your mother told you."

"Not intentionally. She tried to keep your secret." The last word was pure venom.

"It's not a secret. I tried to tell you."

"Right."

"Well, when exactly was I going to do so? It's not like you've been around."

"That's entirely unfair. We've been talking on the phone for days."

"I wanted to tell you in person. I was going to tell you tomorrow."

"That's convenient."

"No, it's not convenient. I was going to tell you three weeks ago, but you were too busy assuming I was cheating on you."

"What was I supposed to assume? It appears I'm just your emergency girl, locked under glass."

"You aren't supposed to assume anything. You're supposed to talk to me."

"I can't do this."

"What this? Us?"

"I quit my job."

He shook his head. "Huh? What? What does that..."

"I quit my job because it wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't going anywhere. I need people I can trust and work with, something I can work towards, and I didn't have any of that there. Succeed or fail, I can't just ... sit. I have to move forward. And I think you didn't tell me about the divorce because, once you do, you have to move forward too. Tell me I'm wrong."

He stood there, staring back at her for a moment, before he looked away.

"That's what I thought. Rick, look at me." He turned back towards her. "I'm... I'm in love with you. I have been for awhile, and until now, that's been enough. But I just tossed my life in the air and I'm not going to try to put it all back together while trying to be with someone who's afraid to start something because he doesn't know how it will end."

"What is this? An ultimatum? Get over it and go all in, or we're through?"

She didn't know how to answer that. All she knew was that she felt like she'd thrown herself into a rolling surf, and she needed to reach out and grab onto something. She wanted it to be him, the thing she could hold on to, but she needed it to be real, not some promise of something in some undefined future.

"Rick ... you're ... I don't see how you can't see how wonderful, how amazing, how extraordinary you are. And I know you've been hurt by stupid women who didn't see it, but I do. And I keep hoping you'll see me, see that I get it. But you don't even get it yourself. And I can't watch you continue to be stuck..."

"So you're going to run," he interrupted, "Because that's what you do."

She shook her head, half in rebuttal and half to keep the tears at bay. She turned, went back to the front door. She looked back at him, standing in his living room, messy and angry and beautiful. Yes, she was going to run, but not because she was afraid. Because she needed to see if he'd chase her.

"Goodbye, Rick," she said.

She left. He didn't follow.

* * *

**A/N: **Ducking...


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Looked under the bed. Still don't own them. Then wondered why, if I did, I would have stored them under the bed.

* * *

In the movies, the guy always chases after the girl. In real life, sometimes the guy has to take his daughter to her graduation ceremony instead.

"A fourth grade graduation. I can't believe it. In my day, you graduated high school, and that was it. Now we celebrate every tiny event. It's ridiculous," Martha Rodgers said.

Rick led his mother through the gym to find two empty metal folding chairs. After Kate had stormed out, Rick had barely managed to rally, get his daughter out the door and pick up his mother before heading to the school. They'd gotten there late, had to sit in the back.

"Mother, you have never passed up a reason to celebrate in your life. Why are you getting wound up now?"

"I don't know, darling. Maybe it has to do with the giant cloud of 'I hate the world' cologne you seem to have slathered on this morning."

Rick leaned back in his folding metal chair. His mother was right, of course. He wasn't in the best of moods, and while he'd hid it from Alexis, his mother was far too observant for his brush-offs.

"Sorry, Mother."

"What happened, Richard?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

"The kindergärtners haven't even gotten their little slips of paper yet. I suspect we have several more hours of this, and I don't want to spend them with you stewing next to me."

"Fine," he huffed. "Kate happened."

"Is that the girl who has had you so smitten these last few months?"

"Smitten?"

"Don't duck behind a critique of my word choices."

"She accused me of hiding."

"Smart girl."

"You think she's right?"

"You've been hiding for years, kiddo."

"Why do you say that?"

"Staying in a marriage to a woman whom you didn't love, that ridiculous playboy routine you try to wear every so often, continuing to write a character you grew bored of books ago. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you hide so well you've even managed to hide from yourself."

He buried his nose in his program.

"I take it she broke things off with you?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure. She said ... she loved me, but couldn't wait."

"So the woman you're in love with loves you too, and you're acting like it's the end of the world."

"I never said I was in love with her."

"Oh darling, as if the last few months haven't made it obvious."

"The last few months? The last few months have been an angry hell. How do you get I'm in love out of angry hell?"

"Well, you're awake aren't you?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you care about something besides Alexis for the first time in I can't remember how long."

Rick huffed. "What if it doesn't work out?"

"Maybe it won't, but she knows you and she loves you. That puts her two points ahead of any other woman I've ever seen you with."

"Ouch."

"Yes, yes, the truth hurts."

He slipped down in his chair, crossed his arms. His mother gave him a look, then turned and watched the Kindergartner's finish their song and begin accepting their diplomas. Rick stared a hole in the blazer of the man in front of him, got lost in thought.

When it was all over, he vaguely remembered Alexis singing an old Whitney Houston song in a chorus with the other fourth graders, but little else. He took his mother and Alexis home, cooked dinner and baked his daughter a cake, all while only half present. Martha gamely filled in the gaps, kept Alexis distracted from her father's mood. Finally, Martha put Alexis to bed, and after taking one look at Rick, decided she was going to go ahead and turn in as well.

"I'm just going to stay here tonight, if that's okay, dear?"

"'Course, Mother. The main guest room is always yours, when you need it. I may go for a walk."

His mother scowled, pointedly looked out the window at the rain coming down.

"Okay, so maybe not a walk," he said. "Maybe I'll call up Steve or James, see if they'll hit the bar with me. Well, James won't, but maybe Steve..."

His mother nodded. "Just keep it below the level of police involvement, okay?" she asked. An image of one particular police officer flashed through Rick's head, and he grimaced, but nodded.

Martha kissed him on the cheek, went upstairs to bed. He watched her leave, absently swirling the watered-down Scotch he'd poured himself.

The anger he'd felt earlier, over being called out by Kate and his mother, was gone, and all it left behind was an aching sense of his own inadequacy. John was right, he didn't have to dislike who he was because Kyra and Meredith had left, and he didn't, not anymore. But he did have to dislike what he had done, what he was doing, with Kate. Yes, he could give everything he had to a relationship with her and it might still fail. But he could also give everything and watch it succeed. He couldn't control the outcome, he could only decide what he wanted, and then decide to commit to whatever it took to have it. And she deserved his actual best effort.

His mother was right, he was hiding. His relationship with Meredith had ended years ago. He'd just needed the divorce papers as a way to hide from moving on.

He looked at the glass in his hand, decided he didn't want to drink anymore. He dumped it in the sink and put on his coat. The answers he wanted, he wasn't going to find in his loft.

* * *

"It'll be fine, Mom. I've got message from Montgomery in Homicide that I need to follow up on, and there's always law school again, or … I could always strip."

"That's not funny," her mother said through the phone.

"Just saying, Mom," Kate said with a smile her mother couldn't see. "There are options."

"Good. Your father and I are always here, anything you need. And what about the other thing?"

Kate huffed. "That's over."

"You went in guns blazing, didn't you?"

"Mom, I get that he's your friend, and ..." Kate didn't want to get into it with her mother. She'd made the right decision, but thinking about it made her feel hollow in a way that she refused to examine. "... and that's great, but can we, tonight, just not..."

"Fine. I'm sorry, honey, no more tonight. Career troubles are a big enough nut for one night. But are you coming over..."

There was a knock at her door.

"Mom, can I call you back? I'll be there Sunday."

"Sure, 'love you, honey," her mother said, and clicked off.

Kate dropped the phone on the couch and answered her door. On the other side stood a waterlogged Rick.

"Rick? What are you doing here?" she asked, holding the door open.

"This," he said, stepping across the threshold so fast that she instinctively pulled back, but in an instant he had one arm around her and the other at her cheek. She swallowed her surprise in an aborted gasp as he pulled her tight and kissed her.

For a moment, she was lost. This wasn't like the swings, or even the library, but an unopened floodgate of masculine heat and need. But it was too sudden, too out of place, and so she recovered, somehow. Despite the overwhelming smell and taste and feel of him around her, and she pushed him away gently.

"Rick, what?"

"I'm so sorry," he said, dipping his forehead against hers. She concentrated on the cold wetness of his skin, the drips of rain over his lashes and down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I thought that ... if I kept it all at arm's length, I could keep it all under control. But I can't, and I don't want to. You're right, I don't know how we'll end. I hope that we don't. But I don't want to waste another minute not finding out. I just want you."

She took a deep breath, buried herself in the smell of him. She could hear the breaking ache in his voice and the shaking of his fingers and arms. It was nearly overwhelming, how exposed and raw he was, in front of her. Something broke in her too. Her hand, which had been pushing at his chest instead curled around the wet silk of his shirt, and she pulled him back towards her, capturing his mouth with hers.

As they kissed, he picked her up, spun her around so that her body pressed her door closed. She tightened her legs, lifting herself up and closer to him, so that she had better access to his mouth. She wanted to destroy any last distance between them, until what was her and what was him was a complete blur.

He stopped, gasping for air. She brought her head to the side of his, faintly tasting the sweat at his temple.

"I love you, Kate. I am ... I just am so far gone..."

He let her go, let her feet come back down to the ground. She ghosted her lips over his cheek, his jaw, his Adam's Apple. She smiled into the hollow at the base of his throat. Her hand reached down to his, and she wrapped her fingers in his. She looked up at him, smiling in joy, and he pulled her off to her bedroom.

She wouldn't have to wait any longer.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that's it, except for an epilogue coming soon. I wanted to thank everyone who took the time to review and follow and the like. I was incredibly nervous, posting this story because a) no beta, b) it's the longest fanfic I've written since Adam Baldwin's days terrorizing Mulder and c) when I started, I'd only seen the last 6 episodes of Castle (I'm up to about 15 now, plus lots of youtube clips). But everyone was wonderful and encouraging and supportive, giving this silly little thing a chance. I hope I did justice to the characters, the show and the time all of you spent here. -blindgirl.


	16. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not to claim to own anything. Well, except "gianormous." I'm still sure I invented that one.

**A/N:** So, I wrote this as a one-shot back in June, and then needed an entire story to justify its existence.

* * *

**Epilogue:**

"Please tell me this gets easier."

Johanna looked up from the grill at her daughter, who was sprawled on one of the chaises on the rooftop deck. "No. But it doesn't last much longer, and then the real hard part begins."

"Sshhh... don't want to hear it. Not today anyway. Why does it have to be the hottest summer on record?"

"Don't worry," Jo said while flipping a burger. "That's over soon too. Can you grab me the cheese?"

"Sure, Mom," Kate said, awkwardly reaching out for the tray of condiments they'd brought from the kitchen. "Did we forget it ... we left it inside, didn't we? I'll get it if you help me up."

Johanna laughed and put down her spatula. She walked over to the chaise where Kate was resting. Kate stuck her arms out, and Jo pulled her to her feet, both of them wobbling a bit at the effort. Kate held onto her mother's arms for a second until she caught her balance. Once on her feet, her daughter surprised Johanna by leaning in, hugging her. Jo wrapped her arms around her little girl.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what's this for?" Jo asked.

"I just been thinking a lot lately and ... thank you, Mom. For my life."

"Starting to realize what I went through?" Jo joked.

Kate gave her mother a look. "Not that. Well that too, since I'm not sure how I'd do this without you. But I meant everything. A great childhood. Not killing me when I was a teenager. The drama around my job. Rick and Alexis."

"You did all those things, all on your own, honey."

Kate huffed, "Right. Mom, I am not in a condition to be messed with, so just accept the compliment, okay?"

"Okay dear, if you wish. I am the puppet master that pulls the strings to bring you happiness."

Kate laughed. "See? What that so hard? Thank you, puppet master."

"You're welcome, I guess."

Kate gave her another hug in thanks and walked to the stairs off the rooftop deck. Johanna watched her leave, then turned back to to the grill, enjoying the breeze coming in and the smell of burgers and hot dogs being nicely charred.

She had always loved Labor Day. Fall was such a more enjoyable season in New York than summer.

Kate returned a minute later, carrying a plate of cheese. "I told everyone to come up, that things were ready."

"You know, grilling is supposed to be a man's job. Where are Rick and your father?"

"Oh, they're in Alexis' room. She's making them cry."

"Should I be worried?"

"No, she's just giving them the speech."

"Ah," Johanna said. She knew the speech. She took the cheese from Kate, laid slices down on half the burgers.

She had just started removing the patties from the fire when Rick, Alexis, and Martha joined them on the deck. Alexis ran over and hugged her, which she tended to do lately every time she was separated from someone for more than five minutes. Jo gave her a one armed hug back, handed the girl a plate with a burger on it.

Everyone else crowded around, loaded up on food for lunch, except Kate, who had invoked privileges to get her husband to do it.

"So she gave you the speech?" Jo asked as her husband came over to stand with her.

"It amazes me how serious she is," Jim said, picking at his chips and looking over at his wife, "considering who she has for parents. Kate's starting to rub off on her a bit though."

"So, did you say yes to her request?"

He huffed. "Right, because there's any chance I'd say no."

"You know, Kate and Rick both asked me to rush the papers if I could. They're sitting in my bag. Think we should give them a Labor Day present?"

"Definitely," he said. "I'll get them."

Johanna chatted with Martha while her husband ran back downstairs to the loft. When he came back, holding a sheaf of papers, Johanna tapped on her glass to stop the conversations around her.

"Mom?" Kate asked.

Jo looked down at the papers she'd spent the last few months rushing through the system. Over the years, the family had come to terms with the fact that Kate's role has a homicide detective occasionally put her in danger, but three months ago, when a killer had started mimicking one of Rick's books, dragging him into Kate's world, they'd realized that his life wasn't completely safe either.

Two days later, Kate, Rick and Alexis had met with Johanna to start filing paperwork for Kate to adopt Alexis. As Rick's wife, she had some rights to Alexis, but if something happened to him, the Becketts had all agreed that they needed every tool available to keep Alexis safe and in the family.

While Rick had worked on Meredith to give up her parental rights, Jo had called in every favor she could in family court to rush things. Everyone had agreed, it was necessary to let Alexis know how important she was by completing the formal adoption before Kate's due date in another month.

"I have a present for you," Jo said, holding out the signed adoption papers for Rick to take. Rick flipped through them with a smile.

"Are those the papers?" Alexis asked. "Does that mean it's official now?"

It was Kate who answered. "It doesn't change anything though, Alexis. Everyone here loves you just the same as before."

"But the law says it too, right? And that's important, right ... Mom? Grampa? Gramma?" Alexis said the last two words quietly, as if she was still unsure of them.

Kate pulled Alexis close. "Yes, honey, that's what it means." Jo reached over her daughter and kissed her granddaughter's head, nodding to the little redhead. Jo's thoughts flashed back to a week before, when Alexis, in a practiced speech, had asked Johanna if, when the paperwork was done, she could start calling her Gramma instead of Aunt Johanna. Alexis had tried to lay out a bunch of well-thought out twelve-year-old's reasons why titles were important, though Johanna couldn't remember any of them, since she'd started crying almost immediately. She'd needed no reasons at all, since she'd started thinking of Alexis as a granddaughter well before Rick and Kate had gotten engaged, maybe even before they'd started dating.

Jo wiped an errant tear from her cheek. She looked over at her husband, and at Martha, who were both a bit misty-eyed. Kate continued to hug her newly adopted daughter as Rick looked up from the papers, mouthed a 'thank you, mom' to Johanna.

A few minutes later, everyone got back to their meals, while Martha regaled everyone with a theater story that had Jim laughing and Rick rolling his eyes. Jo leaned against the railing of the deck, watched the group enjoy the last day of summer together.

Jim moved away from the group and came to her. Her husband wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side. She hugged him back, neither of them taking their eyes off the little family across the deck.

"Sweetie, I've always wanted to know. What did you see?"

"See?" Johanna asked as Martha drifted over and joined them.

"At the beginning, with those two?" Jim asked, nodding towards Rick and Kate. "You were a pretty strong advocate for them, right from the beginning. So what did you see?"

"Honestly? That," she said, pointing at Kate. Next to her daughter, her granddaughter was still tucked into Kate's side. Kate, however, was busy stealing a bite of potato salad off of her husband's plate, even though she had some on her own.

"What, Kate stealing food?"

She slapped her husband's chest for his playful ignorance. "No. The way they just fit. You should have seen those two. She was in love with him five minutes after she met him, I swear. And he was too, even if it took a while for either of them to realize it. I didn't have to push ... not really. They would have gotten here eventually, even as pig headed as they both are."

"Yes, but it might have taken years," Martha said. "My goodness, he'd call and before I knew it, he'd have regaled me with an hour of how great Kate was, and when I'd call him on it, he'd swear I was exaggerating." She paused, looked over at Johanna. "You did a good job, darling. Rick and Alexis were a pretty good team, but I think Kate gave them something they both desperately needed."

"I think we all came out ahead on this one," Jim said.

Johanna hugged her husband, squeezed Martha's hand. They were right, of course. This was what life was supposed to be. She couldn't imagine it any other way.

* * *

**A/N: **Again, thank you everyone for a wonderful ride. I really had no idea one little fluff bunny would turn into 40,000 words...


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